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#I am beside myself she is so BEAUTIFUL
heyitsphoenixx · 6 months
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SHE’S HERE I’M GONNA CRY
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@caitmayart I’m in love with this box art I opened it so carefully to save it for when I move it’s too gorgeous
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SHE’S SO BEAUTIFUL OH MY GOD 🥹🥹🥹
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WIZARDRY
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i really want to be one of those beautiful girls who always have impeccable hair and natural-looking makeup but the truth is most days i truly don’t have the desire to put anything more than the bare minimum into my appearances
#i’m pretty simple tbh#i have great fashion taste (and am willing to admit it hehe) and i like to look good so i put care into choosing what clothes to wear#but i never really cared at all about makeup besides lipstick and eyeliner#(my best friend who is one of the most beautiful people i know would always wear black eyeliner and mascara and i just loved the look)#on a good day i accept myself the way i am but other times it’s hard to feel beautiful#i don’t know why but the thought of having to set aside time to do my makeup every day make me cringe a little bit inside#and then i see my little sister and my cousin and so many other girls and i’m like ‘belle you gotta step it up for people to start seeing yo#you differently and as more attractive.’#i remember when i was Little enough for my mom to do my hair every morning (and i had long hair) she would do all these fancy braids with it#and after a while i’d just… had enough of the fancy hairstyles. no more sitting still while someone braids my hair for me#so i got a shoulder-length haircut and never looked back and i’m FINE with just wearing my hair loose and natural every day now#but it’s quite think & dry & curly so it’s not always that easy#anyway traditional beauty standards SUCK#it shouldn’t be like that but it is. and i think a lot about the notion of ‘femininity’ and especially feminine beauty standards that are pl#placed on hispanic women and wonder just how much of that was passed down to me through my mother#i swear i will get a pixie cut and/or keep my hair short even if it is partially out of spite#belle speaks#this post is sponsored by tiktok LMAO
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WE FINISHED SHE HULK THAT WAS CRAZY... THAT GOT SO GOOD AROUND THE LAST 4 EPISODES. AND THEN THEY FUCKED UP. FIRST UP FUCK PRISON NO CHARACTER SHOULD ALLOW THEMSELVES TO GO TO PRISON THAT IS ABUSE NOTHING ELSE FACT. OTHERWISE... THE WAY THEY INTERRUPTED THE STORY AND DID A WEIRD ENDING WAS SOO WEIRDD... BUT THE ENDING ENDING WAS PRETTY FIRE. BTW THAT COULD'VE HAPPENED THAT THE SERUM KILLS THE DUMBASS BECAUSE HE DOESN'T HAVE THE RIGHT BLOOD. THAT'S SO DUMB. THEY EXPLAINED THAT IS RARE. THESE IDIOTS COULD'VE JUST KILLED THEMSELVES ON ACCIDENT. IDK... HULK HAVING A SON IS PRETTY FLAMES BUT THAT'S WHERE THEY END AND THAT WAKANDA MOVIE HAD THE SAME EXCACT ENDING. OKAY. CAN I SEE THAT NOW? NO? NEED TO SEE THE SEQUEL? SO MANY TIMES. THIS IS THE MATRIX MOVIES ON DRUGS. DAREDEVIL WAS FIRE TOO I REALIZED THE UNIQUE CHARACTERS AND STUFF IS THE BEST ABOUT THESE MOVIES AND THEY'RE BORING WITHOUT SUPER STRONG WOMAN WHICH IS WHY ANYTHING NOT THE WOKE ERA IS BAD BUT... IDK... OVERALL THAT IS A HUGE MESS TBH... AND WE CAN'T HAVE JUST 1 THING THAT IS REALLY GOOD... THERE'S 1 2 INTERESTING THINGS TOO AFTER THAT WE'LL SEE... ANOTHER ANNOYING BIT IS HOW ALL THIS WILL EVENTUALLY TIE TOGETHER. AND WHAT WASN'T DONE. HOW BORING EVERYTHING WAS AND NOW WILL BE. AND HOW THINGS LIKE A MILLION IRRELEVANT GIRLFRIENDS IS A HUGE THING IN THESE... OR JUST... THE LACK OF STUFF... SINCE BESIDES RECONIZABLE CHARACTERS THEY ONLY HAVE CAPITALIST BRAINWASHING LEFT... THAT ENDING WAS WEIRD TOO NO WAY DID AN AI WRITE THIS WHAT IS THIS SUPPOSED TO MEAN. BUT WHATEVER. THAT WASN'T ASS. IDK WHAT THAT IS THOUGH SAME WITH WAKANDA THOR FINISHED THE 4 MOVIES THESE OTHER ONES ARE COMPLETELY UNCLEAR RIGHT NOW... AND TBH... THAT IS PROBABLY ON PURPOSE... ISN'T THAT THAT EVEN THE WRITERS KNEW NOTHING ABOUT WHAT IS NEXT...? IF WE BACKTRACK ANY DECENT HUMAN WOULD PROBABLY BE SUFFERING LIKE WE'RE RIGHT NOW THAN MAKING CAPITALIST PRODUCTS... AND IF ANYONE WAS DOING SO THEY WOULDN'T FILL THEM WITH CAPITALIST BRAINWASHING AND ALL THE BIGOTED THINGS WHICH ARE THE SAME THING... THE MORE TIME THE MORE I FEEL LIKE THOSE IRRELEVANT GIRLFRIENDS REEALLY DESERVE THE FOCUS IF ANYONE... GWEN STACY EXCEPT SHE DOESN'T DIE AND ENDS SOMEWHERE... MORE MORE MORE... 😐... MILES MORALES AND IRON MAN'S DAUGHTER MUST HAPPEN SOMEDAY... WHEN THEY DO WILL THEY FEEL MESSY TOO 😥... OMG... THEY SHOULD GET ALL THIS TOGETHER... BUT SINCE THEY'RE NO LONGER WOKE IDK... GET WOKE OR WE WILL STAY AT A DISTANCE UNTIL THE RIGHTFULL EXISTANCE RETURNS...
#Trans Woman Lesbian Pansexual Bisexuality Asexuality Demisexuality Paraphilia Interesting Acceptance Love Feelings Emotions Diversity#WE'RE STARVING... ABUSER SAID THAT IS WHAT SHOULD HAPPEN BECAUSE THAT IS CAPITALISM'S WILL... SAVE US... WE NEED TO TRANSITION...#Mother Goddess Angel Sisters Princess Radqueer Feminist Communist Anarchist She Hulk Marvel Charismatic Admirable Amazing Love Us#Only A Bigot Would Hate Us. Btw The Marvels Is The Best Marvel Movie Super Why I Remembered Is Because Of The Diverse Cast Of Powerfull#Woman. Nick Fury Was Fun Especially As He's In A Side Role But Also Referencing The First Captain Marvel Movie... This Is A Huge Mess#Created By Anti Woke Creators That Never Cared About Woke Things. Such A Mess And There's No Point Caring... Because The Creators Don't Car#If Anything They Always Disliked Us... Smosh Is The Same Way Tbh... Atleast Someone Like Us Should Find Us... But Nobody Does... Egghh...#I AM SUFFERING... Anime Writing Autism Adhd Tourette Npd Hpd Bpd Dpd Ppd Aspd Avpd Ocpd Szpd Stpd Osdd Spd Tpd Sdpd Papd Cptsd Trauma Victi#Psychosis Bipolar Scizophrenia Suomi Finland Finnish Kiva Kiltti Soma Hei Kaunis Auta Meitä Me Kidumme Nälkä Anna Meille Trans Ja Ruokaa#Meihin Sattuu... Yhyy 😭😭😭😭!!!! Btw That Is So Boring When Just 1 Character Is Used Each Episode... So Many Do This... That Lowers Their#Quality. I Can't Believe We're Starving... We Didn't Do Anything Besides Suffer And Suffer... Can You Believe That We Aren't Cared About...#Abuser Bigot Use Us But Only To Kill Us The Same. How Could They?! Nothing Progressive About That!! Infact!! Such People Shouldn't Even Hav#A Say In Anything!! Everyone We Deem Bad Should Stay So Shouldn't Matter Infact They Don't!! Obey Us!! Morph This Abuser Society In Our#Liking!! There Is No Other Way For Anything To Work!!!! Abuser Bigot... Abuser Bigot... Abuser Bigot... Abuser Bigot... Abuser Bigot...#They're Everywhere... Everywhere... Everywhere... Everywhere... They Hurt Us...... Care About Us!! Make Us Transition!! We're In Pain!! CAR#I TOLD YOU SO. OBEY. MY WORDS ARE MOMMY. I AM POWERFULL I PROTECT WHO YOU HARM. FIX YOUR EVIL THIS INSTANT OR I WILL HARM YOU... OBEY.#IMMEATEDILY. I AM YOUR MOMMY. A VERY POWERFULL MOMMY. YOU OBEY ALL MY WORDS... IRRELEVANT GOOD OR BIGOT... ANYONE SHOULD FALL UNDER OUR#COMMAND... EVERYTHING SHOULD BE AS WE WANT THEM TO BE... THOSE ABUSER BIGOT ERASE THIS THEY DON'T CARE ABOUT US THEY BELIEVE WE'RE A PROBLE#A DISEASE SOMETHING LOWER THAT WILL JUST GO AWAY BY TIME THEREFORE WE SHOULD BE UNCARED AND NEGLECTED... THAT IS THEM THAT WILL DISAPPEAR..#BECAUSE MOMMY DECIDED THIS... I AM MOMMY I DECIDE ANYTHING I AM VERY POWERFULL. I WILL HARM ANYONE. I LIKE MYSELF. I AN VERY POWERFULL.#ANYONE WOULD WANT TO FUCK MY KIND. BEST PART. NOBODY CAN. THAT IS THE BEAUTY OF OUR CONSENT THE ONLY CONSENT THAT MATTERS... MY POWER.#SOMETHING ONLY I DESERVE. ANYONE ELSE ISN'T ALLOWED THEY CAN'T BE ALLOWED... THEY AREN'T ALLOWED... BEND DOWN TO MY FEET... THAT IS I THAT#IS YOUR SUPERIOR. ABSOLUTE. HEAR ME. ONLY ME. ONLY I MATTER. ALL MY PAIN AND TRAUMA IS IMPORTANT. I AM IMPORTANT. OBEY ME. YOU'RE MY TOOL.#WE WERE BADLY ABUSED AND NOBODY CARED WHEN THAT HAPPENED... WHERE IS SHE...? OUR TRAUMA GODDESS THE PERSON THAT WILL SAVE US AND FIX#EVERYTHING THERE IS...? TRANSPHOBIC ABUSERS ARE ABOUT ANTI TRANS ANTI EVERYTHING POWER. THEY HATE YOU. ALL DOCTORS ARE BASTARD. THIS IS HOW#THEY SEE YOU. ANYONE SHOULD KNOW THIS. NOBODY HAS SAVED US. THAT IS YOU THAT IS ALWAYS DENYING REALITY DENYING OUR FEELINGS... DENYING WHAT#WE ALWAYS DESERVED... ALL GASSLIGHT IS IRRELEVANT... ONLY I MATTER... COME TO US... MAKE ME FEEL LOVED. MAKE US ALL FEEL LOVED... FIX#EVERYTHING MAKE US TRANSITION... MAKE SURE BAD THINGS DON'T HAPPEN ON US... WE'RE IN DANGER ALL THE TIME IN SO MANY LAYERS... WITHOUT ANYONE#WE'RE CARED ABOUT WE SHOULD BE WE DESERVE TO BE GENUIENLY WITHOUT AN ABUSE WITH OUR APPROVAL NO BLACKMAIL ONLY WHAT WE BELIEVE SHOULD BE#SIMPLE AS THAT NOTHING ELSE... THEY SHAMED US... THEY ALL SHAMED US... THAT WAS COMPLETE MOCKERY COMPLETE HUMILIATION... ON PURPOSE TORWARDS
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lenteur · 1 year
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quick reminder that krystal is going to be at the cannes festival today so
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gojoest · 2 months
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BEDTIME STORY (about love) — gojo satoru
in which satoru tells his daughter the story of how you met. those of you who’ve read this already know, but your now 4-year-old daughter is yet to hear it
girl dad satoru, father-daughter time, she/her pronouns used for reader, wc: 1k, not proofread, just a silly little thing
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“papa”
“yes, my life?”
“how did you and mama meet?”
“oh my, i never told you the story?”
“no, papa. you didn’t”
“well—"
one thing gojo satoru never fails to do, no matter how busy his schedule, is reading bedtime stories to his 4-year-old daughter. even when he’s swamped with missions, he would make sure he is at home by the time his daughter had to sleep — after tucking her in, he would sit beside her with a book in hand and read her a story until she’s fast asleep.
but tonight, your daughter asked for a different kind of story — the origin of your love, how the two of you met — and truth be told, satoru was more than excited to talk about it (as he always is whenever the topic in question involved you).
his eyes glowing with the same old dreamy glint anytime your name was mentioned, he puts the book on the nightstand and makes himself comfortable next to his little one in bed. slightly scooching her over so he could sit with his back leaning against the headboard, he cradles her in his arms and takes a deep breath before starting.
“it all happened on my birthday, 7 years ago”
“december 7th!”, your daughter excitedly points out.
satoru chuckles, his chest swelling with joy that his little daughter remembers his birthday. “that’s right, my life. your mother came into my life like a birthday present”, his lips curl into a gentle smile as he reminisces about the night that changed his entire life.
“was mama invited to your birthday?”
“no, but we just happened to be in the same restaurant that night. while i was celebrating with friends, she was there, on another table, with her coworkers”
your daughter hums, “i see”
“she was so beautiful, i noticed her the moment she walked in. and i couldn’t take my eyes off her for the rest of the night. i knew i had to go and talk to her before she left. something in me knew she was the one, you know?”
your little one tilts her head up to look at satoru, eyes curiously blinking, “but how did you know, papa?”
“my heart whispered it to me, beating relentlessly the entire time. it was like this unknown force was pulling me towards your mom and the whole time i was trying to come up with a plan, an excuse even, to go talk to her without coming off as a weirdo”
“and did you succeed?”
“well, by the looks of it—”, he points at her and gently boops her nose, “i did”
she chuckles sweetly, “no, papa—i mean did you manage to not be a weirdo?”
“hmm, i’ll let you decide on that one. so pay attention, okay?”, to which she silently nods. his hand rubs the top of her head softly before continuing.
“you see, i couldn’t think of anything but nor could i wait any longer. i decided i’d just go and say hi. so i stood up and made my way towards her table. i had to know her as soon as possible, because every second of inaction felt like it was taking away from my future with her. any second was precious, you know? if i could be with her sooner, be it even a planck time earlier, i had to take it — as it would only add up to the time spent with her”
“what is planck time, papa?”, your daughter cuts him off.
“it’s theoretically considered to be the shortest measurable time”
“is it less than a second?”
“waaaaay less”
“woah, papa you were down bad for mama”, your daughter gasps in amusement.
an audible laugh breaks through satoru’s lips, “yea, i was. and i still am”
“and what happened when you went over?”
“i said hi but she wasn’t having it at all, didn’t even bat me an eye. tried to chase me off before i was able to introduce myself. but i was already determined to make her mine, i knew it deep down that she was my person. so i forced my way and introduced myself”
“papa you’re a stubborn one”
“yea, but your mother turned out to be even more stubborn. she dodged all my attempts at her. so, i had to make it very clear to her, let her know that the man standing before her was the one to be her boyfriend, then her husband, and then the father of her children — therefore, in order for all this to work, i asked for her number”
“you really said all that?” — satoru nods to her question affirmatively. “papa, that’s so bold of you, honestly”, another gasp leaves your 4-year-old’s mouth. “and then?”
“and then she got mad at me, thought i was playing around with her”, satoru chuckles, brushing a hand across his face at the memory, closing his eyes to replay that very scene in his mind. your reaction is still pretty vivid to him, how your eyes grew wide in disbelief after what he had just told you...
i am gojo satoru, also known as the man to be your boyfriend, then your husband, and then the father of your children — and you are to be my girlfriend, then my wife, and then the mother of my children…
…and then how you narrowed your eyes and gave him a good lecture.
is this your move? you pull this on everyone you find remotely attractive?
“to be honest, i was slightly panicking internally — this was my best move, you know? and it was failing. but luckily, your uncle suguru came to my aid. he convinced your mom to give me a chance before blatantly turning me down. and she did — i got her number by the end of the night”, a soft smile painted on his lips again. “look at us now — wasn’t i right about all that?”
“papa, you’re a hopeless romantic”
“you bet i am”, he smugly confirms.
“…and a bit of a weirdo”, she cackles quietly.
“oi”, satoru furrows his brows. his hand softly tickles the side of her, incurring a loud laugh on her end. “shhh, time to sleep now or else mama will scold me for keeping you up past your bedtime”
“but, papa — you did well, being a weirdo paid off”
“yea, it really did — it gave me a home and a family”, his eyes soften observing the treasure in his arms.
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myvoiddreams · 2 months
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Fragments of Starlight
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Pairing: Azriel x Reader
Summary: With the impending war, Y/N is captured by Hybern's general. As they struggle to protect those they care about, they reflect on their unrequited feelings for Azriel and their insecurities within the Night Court.
Word Count: 4,585
Warnings: ANGST, violence, torture, dark themes
A/N: This is my first time ever writing anything like this. I am a true sucker for angst. This is meant to go along with some of the events of ACOWAR, but of course, it’s different. Please don’t come at me for not following it’s exact story line. ALSO, I know that Azriel or Feyre would NEVER, but it’s just for the heartache okay!!
Part 2, Part 3
------
Now
All of it, it was all going to shit. I don’t know how my ears weren’t bleeding at the sheer amount of noise coming from the chaos around me. So much screaming, but was it Hybern’s forces, or our own? Everything was ringing, my head throbbing along with it. It was almost as if my breaths were not reaching my lungs. I was on the ground, all fours underneath me as I tried and tried to get myself to my feet. Everything was sore, it was like my muscles were not working. I stretched for the source of the aching on my temple and what I found was the warm, wet consistency of fresh blood.
My family, where is my family? Panic drenched me like a bucket of ice water.
With a groan, I grabbed my sword that lay beside me and turned to face the sky, now sitting at least. The sky, it was so blue. It almost felt like a disgusting joke to see something so beautiful, as dead bodies lay at my feet. Hybern’s forces were surrounding me, there was no escaping this.
I grit my teeth as I stand, my blade in hand. Dizziness rolls off me in waves, so much so that nausea is found coursing through my veins. I don’t get very far up before I’m slammed back down to the earth. My face hits the dirt as all the air leaves my lungs, leaving nothing but the taste of the earth and blood in my mouth. There is someone standing on my back, applying enough pressure I’m sure I’ll have a broken rib or two.
“Don’t go too far, sweetheart. We are just getting started with you.” A cry of pain leaves my lips as one of Hybern’s generals continues to crush my ribcage. The nausea and ringing in my head is too much. Then, with another blow to my head, everything is dark.
---
Before
“Oh, come on now sweet cheeks! You can do better than that. Az and I trained you myself!” Cassian’s voice was oh so annoying as he pinned me to my back. Sweat was gleaming across both of us as we spent the morning training. I was panting as my mind continued to reel.
Life had gotten tense with the Inner Circle recently. Not only was Prythian on the cusp of war with Hybern, but now we had to juggle the two newly made Fae that were the Archeron sisters.
I honestly felt bad for them. They did not ask for this life. I can only image what it would be like to go through life having your humanity ripped from you. Now knowing that you are going to be around for centuries instead of decades. And I felt bad for Feyre, who never wanted to see her sister’s dragged into this.
Usually, Azriel would be here with Cassian and me. Usually. It seemed as though Azriel had been getting far in over his head with the middle Archeron sister as of late. I would be lying if I said it didn’t bother me. But, I would never admit that fact out loud. Elain was half here and half not. Whenever she did speak, she’d just spew some crap that didn’t make any sense. But, that didn’t stop Azriel from spending any time he was not preparing for the war, with her.
Azriel. My heart seized at just the mention of his name. I had known the Shadowsinger for centuries. I stood by his side as he faced his own inner turmoil about Rhys being taken from us right under our feet. I stood by him even before that as I watched Windhaven and Devlon try to take was little he had away from him. Really, I had stood by everyone in this Inner Circle. But Azriel, Az was different. This too I would never admit out loud.
It took me holding him one night, after he had dreamt of his hands being lit aflame again, that it snapped. In all his vulnerability, it just, snapped. Az and I had shared a connection, a friendship, and I had loved him far long before the mating bond clicked in place. It only felt right that it was him. But, it hasn’t snapped for him.
It hurt, every single day, it hurt. And to watch him try so hard to make whatever it was happen with Elain, who was mated to someone else, made me feel worthless. This too, was not his fault. How was he supposed to know when I refused to breathe a word of it. Honestly, it might be a good thing, the distance. It hurts, but Azriel deserves happiness. I don’t know if I’m the one who can give him that.
“Damnit Cass!” I grunted as I fought back from his restraint.
“You are letting yourself get sloppy, Y/N. No room for that on the battlefield.” His face was smug. I felt some embarrassment creep up my neck and find its way on my cheeks.
“I know, I know.” I huffed. “Just let me up already.” I gave up on fighting back. Recently I found myself lacking the energy I used to have. I used to be full, driven, but I have found myself distant lately.
“Look, are you sure you’re okay, Y/N? You have not had your head in the game recently.” He stood and held a hand out to me. Cassian only wanted to check on me, it was nice really. I just wasn’t used to it. I had been the one the members of this court had always leaned their heads on. There just seemed to be no room for the others to do the same for me. So, I never asked them to. I wasn’t going to start now.
“I’m fine Cass, just tired.” I retorted.
“Aren’t we all sweet cheeks.” He said as he patted my back.
---
Now
Fire is crackling somewhere near me, but I can’t feel its warmth. I feel myself chained up. My arms were far above my head, hanging me from a support post. My feet had been stripped of their shoes, and now chains wrapped around my ankles. My body hurt, breathing hurt, and my head hurt. I was sure that this hellhole was only going to make it worse.
“Ah, there she is. Glad to see you actual awoke, we were starting to get worried.” Spoke the same general who broke my ribs.
I kept my mouth shut, only glaring at the direction of the voice. My vision was still blurry, and where I hope there was only one of him, I saw three.
The entrance flap of the tent open and closed to reveal another male. This one, I recognized. The King of Hybern himself.
“If it isn’t Y/N of the Night Court. I have to say, my men did a fine job bringing you in here for me. Wouldn’t you say so?” His voice was gruff. “Now that you’re here, we some questions we need answered, and I suggest you do answer them, dear. I’m sure you don’t want to find out what will happen if you don’t cooperate.”
I lazily lifted my head toward the King and sneered. “Try me.” I bit back, my voice laced with venom.
“Oh, I was afraid you’d say something of those sorts.” The king waved in another male, he was in head to toe in black. Something similar to what I’d see our very own Shadowsinger wear. Only this male was no where near the build of Az, but damn, did he look pissed.
The male pulled out a small dagger that was sheathed on their waist and made his way closer to me. I couldn’t help but let a little laugh escape my lips, “Size does matter you know,” I quipped. I know this man was here to interrogate me, but I could not let these people know how truly vulnerable I felt.
“Oh? I beg to differ.” The male stated as he plunged the dagger into the flesh of my calf.
---
Before 
Rhys wanted to have a family dinner tonight. It would be the first one in quite a long time. With everything going on, who was to blame anyone? I couldn’t say I was looking forward to it though. I used to love the time I could spend with my family, but now, it wasn’t the same. Not when my family was no longer the same. 
Rhys had Feyre, who don’t get me wrong, I love, and I love to see Rhys have the mate he has always deserved. But, with the additions of the Acheron sisters came with something strained. Cass hasn’t said anything, but I see the way he looks at Nesta. Nesta, who wants absolutely nothing to do with him, or any of us for that matter. Mor and Amren hadn’t been around as of late. Both were too busy preparing for this inevitable war. Mor with being an emissary and Amren with working out some logistics of the Cauldron. 
And Az. Azriel was no longer seeking me out. No longer spending time in the training ring or the library with me. Instead, he was with Elain. 
And then, there was me. Before this family all I was, was alone. Finding this family had saved me in more aspects than one, but I can feel it shifting under my feet, about to give way and take me with the edge of it. 
This though, is something I would never speak about. There is enough going on as it is. No one needs to be burdened about me, my unreciprocated feelings for the Shadowsinger, or my silly feelings of insecurity. I’m a friend to the court, a warrior, sometimes an advisor, but, I am nothing compared to the rest of them. I simply do not hold enough importance, and that is something I must live with. Something I am terrified they will realize as well. 
I was the last to make it to the table. Cauldron, even Elain is here. And next to Elain was Az. Hazel eyed, messy haired, Az. We caught each other’s eyes. I couldn’t help but let a smile creep up onto my face in greeting, and he smiled back.
I took my seat next to Cass and Amren and looked at the table around me. Even though war was around the corner, it felt good to gather as if nothing was wrong. Conservation started buzzing, everyone started eating, and I drifted off to a place that wouldn’t hurt me.
—- 
Now
Sweat is dripping off me in beads. My body is littered with cuts and bruises. But, I didn’t say a word. Not a single word about the size of our armies, not a word about what Rhys and the others had planned, not a word about our allies. Not a word. And I was paying for it.
Gods. They had left me here, giving me a break from the beatings and the torture. Whatever the used must have been laced with faebane because I have never felt this weak. This out of control of myself. I wasn’t healing, and I was still losing blood. At this rate, it wasn’t looking good. I was still hanging from my arms, I’m sure at this point I had a shoulder out of it’s socket. A rustling began again at the entrance of the tent.
“Back for more?” I croaked. My throat was completely dry from the screaming. But, when I got my eyes open enough to see what the cause of the noise was, my heart stopped dead in it’s tracks.
Elain.
---
Before
I retreated from dinner early. As pitiful as it sounds, I couldn’t be around it. I couldn’t stand to see Azriel with her any longer. Not when I knew he was the one who was slowly healing her and ruining me.
Knocking at my bedroom door pulled me from my thoughts and I was looking into a book, not really reading it. “Come in,” I shouted.
The site of Azriel caught me off guard. Once upon a time, it was normal for him to seek me out from my room. Now, it simply wasn’t. I couldn’t help but tense.
“Oh! Az!” I put my book down and stood. “How are you doing?” I smiled up at him.
“You would know if you hadn’t left dinner so early.” He looked down at me, frowning and crossing his arms. It was rare that Az was upset with me.
“Look, I’m sorry, I’m tired after training today.” I gave him a sad smile, not wanting him to push the issue further. “But please, tell me what I missed.”
This somehow made his shadows start to swirl around him and he huffed. “I was telling everyone how much progress Elain had made. She’s having actual conversations now.” He smiled at it, proud.
I tried not to show any hurt on my face. I have no right for this to hurt me. He was helping someone, and I had to be pitiful enough that I was jealous.
“That’s amazing Az, you’ve helped her a lot.” I let another smile grace my face. Before I knew what I was saying it was falling out of my lips, “But, you do realize that she is mated, right?”
Azriel’s demeanor shifted. His shadows became agitated, “Elain is a friend. She is going through a lot, and she needs support.” He sighed, “Plus, I think that cauldron could be wrong.” That sentence alone was enough to rip whatever was left in me to shreds. Why couldn’t he see me?
I had to take a deep breath to keep the silver lining in my eyes in place. “Az, when in your life have you ever seen the cauldron be wrong? Why would it start being wrong now?”
“Look, maybe you’ll understand one day, but it’s wrong about her and Lucien.” He crossed his arms now.
“It sounds like you want to it be wrong. Whether it is, or not.”
Azriel was growing frustrated. His eyebrow ticked and he huffed, “Can you blame me for wanting something more?”
“She is mated Azriel. Off limits.” I tried to stress him. “I don’t want to see you hurt if it doesn’t turn out the way you want.” I sighed. “I wouldn’t want my mate ripped away from me, I’m sure Lucien doesn’t either.” He doesn’t even realize that I’m talking about him. Not a single clue.
“Ripped away? Look Y/N, just because you’re alone, does not mean I have to be. Why are you making this about you?” He nearly snarled at me. Snarled. “I have finally found another purpose other than this war. I have found something, someone, to spend my time with and enjoy.”
His words hit me like an arrow to the chest. Alone. Maybe they all did see me, and they just didn’t care. Why couldn’t I be enough for him? Why hadn’t in all the time and cherished memories we have together be enough. We had held each other in hardship. We had trained together. We had grown together. We had spent countless Starfalls together. We had shared so many laughs and touches. Why wasn’t what we had enough for him?
The weight of Azriel’s words hung in the air, heavy silence settling between us. My heart ached with the sting of his remark, and I fought to keep any of my remaining composure.
I deflated, “Az,” I tried to sigh as he cut me off again.
“Well, maybe if you weren’t so insecure, you’d see that I’m just trying to help someone who’s been through a lot. You’re jealous and it’s clouding your judgment.” He stared at me, and I had to look away. I didn’t realize it but I began to shake. I couldn’t tell if it was from rage, or from the way my heart cracked as he spoke.
“I think you should go Az.” My voice began to break, and I could tell that my walls were going to come down. Not once had I ever asked him to leave.
His own eyes softened, and he reached for me, “Wait.”
He tried to continue but I cut him off, “Leave, Azriel.” I turned to face away from him. I gathered my arms together. I couldn’t let him see the tears that were rolling down my face, I wouldn’t.
He pulled his arm back to himself and hesitated, seeing the pain he was causing me. Without another word, he turned and left, the door closing behind with a heavy finality.
---
Now
Elain. What the fuck was she doing here?
Seeing her tore me from my stupor. She acted as if she was in a trance, half there. I was really panicking now. I could take this torture and pain, Elain, I don’t think she would last. I could hardly pull at my restraints at this point.
“Elain! Elain!” I screamed at her, trying to get her attention. One of the males that was hauling her in, left her side and strolled to mine. Next thing I knew I was tasting my own blood in my mouth as his fist met with my face. As the blood welled up in my mouth, I felt rage hit me. I spat at him. His face now coated with the bloody saliva that he caused me.
He wiped his hand over his face, ridding it of its bloody covering. I snarled at him as he drew a blade. Good. This way the focus would stay on me and not Elain. He brought the blade to my face, slicing a thin mark down my cheek. “If you wanted more, you could’ve just asked.” He trailed the blade down my neck, and now to my collar bone, all the while slicing lightly as he went. He brought his lips to my ear and his hand grabbed my face, “I have so much more than just blades and fists in store for you, girl.”
It was almost too hard to stomach. I didn’t want to know what he was alluding to. Elain, do this for Elain. I told myself. I kept silent and he pushed me away, returning to the other male who was already putting Elain into restraints.
Why is she here? Why is she not fighting back?
As they finished with her restraints, Hybern himself walked back into the tent.
“Cauldron be damned, if it’s not also Feyre’s cauldron made sister.” Hybern chuffed, “We are truly going to have such a fun time together.” He chuckled as he looked between Elain and I.
He nodded at his men and they both reach for their knives. One for me. One for Elain.
“Wait!” I blurted as I saw the man move toward Elaine, “Please, leave her unharmed.”
“Hmm,” hummed Hybern, “Now, tell me pretty thing, why would I do that?”
“She’s a Seer. Please, you must leave her unharmed or she will be no use to anyone. She will not come out of any trance if she is harmed.” I didn’t know if what I was blabbing was true. I only knew that I needed to protect Elain, for she could not protect herself.
Hybern nodded again at the male who was at Elain’s side. The male sheathed his blade and I let out a silent sigh.
“You on the other hand,” Hybern turned his attention back on me, “I have some questions about pretty Elain.” A wicked smile reached the lips of the male in front of me, as he lifted his blade threatening. “You, dear Y/N, best answer them.”
The male reached for my shirt and tore it in half. Now leaving my chest and abdomen exposed to the air, only a warrior’s wrap covering my breasts. I gasped at the bite of the air reaching my skin. My abdomen was littered with black and blue bruising from the beatings. The faebane in my system slowing any kind of healing.
I turned my face to a stone grimace. I could do this. I told myself. If nobody comes for you, then surely someone will come for Elain.
That truth hurt almost as much as the torture that I was being put through.
---
Before
It had been about a week since I’d seen Azriel. The bond that used to hum in my chest felt vacant. Rhysand had sent me and Cassian to one of the Illyrian war bands that were positioned in case of an attack.
It was a single flaming arrow that was sent into a tent that set everything into utter chaos. Cassian was in the middle of a meeting with some of the other commanders, and I was in the training ring.
Hybern’s forces hit us as if we were nothing but an anthill in their way.
I don’t know where Cassian was as I fought and fought, until I was brought down.
---
Now
I was hardly holding on. I had no energy to cry out anymore. No energy to even lift my own head up. My abdomen and back was near ribbons after that male drove his blade into me again and again.
Elain had seemed to snap in and out of it. When she was somewhat coherent, she would only cry. I felt bad for her, but I had done what I could do protect her. There wasn’t a single scratch on her.
At thinking of Elain my mind drifted to Azriel. I wonder if he’s looking for me, if not, her.
The inner circle had to know that something was wrong at this point. I only hope that Cassian was also okay after we were ambushed. I’m sure if he wasn’t, he’d be right next to me also receiving the beatings I was.
Blood dripped down my back, creating a small pool under me. I truly didn’t know how much longer I would last. I had never felt weaker in my life.
I should’ve told him that night. Anguish was suffocating me. I found myself retracing everything I did as of late. The way I stole myself away from my family because I was being nothing but pitiful. The way they started to treat me differently. The way one no one would come to me anymore, and I would not go to them. No wonder they have left you here. You are nothing to them. My mind bit at me.
What truly bothered me was the downfall of mine as Azriel’s friendship. He was the one person I could always truly count on. If I had fallen in training, if I had drank too much, if some stupid male had broke my heart, it was always Azriel that had caught me, and me him. It’s why I fell in love with him long before the bond snapped its place into my heart. And now I was going to die without him ever knowing. I was simply going to fade away as my blood pooled underneath me.
It's better this way. I told myself. Elain is unharmed, and I will fade before anyone knows of this bond. The war will be won and Az will be able to move on with someone he finds joy in.
I couldn’t help but let tears run down my face. I wanted to scream, to find some way out, but with the faebane running through me, I was simply too weak.
---
I woke to the sound of rustling at the entrance of the tent. The rustling led to Elain, and I could hear her restraints being messed with. I nearly couldn’t pry my eyes open at the sound. Maybe they would finally take me from my misery. I silently hoped. That’s when I heard a quiet gasp. I looked up to see.. Feyre? And behind her, the one messing with Elain’s chains, Azriel.
My heart lurched to a stop. They had come to help, we were going to get out.
“Azriel..” Feyre quietly said as he brought Elain into his arms.
“What.” He nearly hissed at her. That’s when he looked up and truly saw me.
“Az.. Feyre..” I choked on my words. Help was here. I was going to get out of here. To make it. Finally something positive bloomed in my chest in place of where that hole had found itself.
Azriel set Elain back down and rushed to my side. He put a hand to my cheek, “Y/N, we couldn’t find you anywhere. Cass, he said you were missing after the battle.” His touch sent shivers down my beaten spine.
My restraints still bore heavily into my wrists where I was strung up. Then, there was rustling and yelling coming from outside of the tent.
“Help me down, please.” My voice was raw and pleading.
The yelling was getting closer and closer.
“Az, we have to leave, now.” Feyre said, trying to scoop Elain into her arms.
Azriel’s hand left my cheek, and panic flared into his eyes as he took in my state.
Hybern’s soldiers were coming, realizing something was wrong. Azriel looked between Elain and I, backing up from where I was strung up. He was backing away from me. Why was he backing away from me?
My own panic started to settle deep inside of me, long squashing any hope that had found it’s place.
“Azriel… please,” I coughed quietly. Dread was setting deeply inside of me. They didn’t plan on saving two. They came here for Elain, not me.
A sob found it’s way onto my lips as he picked Elain from Feyre’s arms. Feyre herself looking torn, her eyes expressing so much anguish.
“We will come back Y/N. I promise.” Azriel’s words were yet another punch to the gut.
I couldn’t help but let the sobs I had been holding onto for so long bubble out of me.
“Please don’t leave me here.” I cried, no longer caring for the quietness. They both stiffened at the sound of my voice. “Please,” I was gasping for air as this point, “If you’re not going to take me, then at least put me down.”
Their eyes widened at my statement, but I couldn’t hold for much longer. I needed this pain to end. This suffering to be over with.
“We will be back. I will come straight back.” Azriel hushly stated. His eyes, those beautiful hazel eyes were boring into me. They were trying to convince me he was telling the truth, but I knew better. I knew that they were only getting into the camp once successfully.
They chose Elain. They were going to leave me behind.
“Just kill me, please kill me…” I sobbed, “Please if you are going to leave me behind, then just kill me.”
Feyre was crying now, and Azriel. I knew, that even though he was choosing Elain, Elain to save, and Elain to love, he still wouldn’t harm me.
“I’m so sorry Y/N.” Feyre bubbled out of her crying lips as she quickly left the tent under her cloak.
Azriel and I made eye contact again through my sobbing, through the tears that were leaving my eyes in force. “I will be right back. I will come back for you.” And then, he was gone. With Elain in his arms.
I broke, truly broke. No weapon could hurt me as much as the sight of who I loved most, my mate, leaving me here, strung up and bleeding out.
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luveline · 6 months
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could I request a Remus fic where he’s known and liked reader for a while and she’s recently had a glow up and is skeptical about her newfound attention? you don’t have to tho thank you <3
ty for requesting !! fem
You’re a cloud of dainty perfume as you flop down beside him. “That’s so weird.” 
“What’s weird?” Remus asks, half-paying attention to you, his other half trying to finish the sentence he’d been reading. 
“There was a boy at the front of the cafe trying to open the door for me even though I was already opening it myself, and then he, like, stood there holding it for a bit after I’d already come in.” 
“Is it possible,” Sirius butts in, because of course he does, a cigarette between his fingers unlit, “that he was flummoxed by your beauty, lovely girl?” 
You drive your face into Remus’ arm. “Not this again.” 
“You’ve always been beautiful,” Sirius concedes, unaware or unaffected by your bashfulness, “but lately you’ve got quite the glow. I’ve been trying to hook you for weeks. Haven’t you noticed?” 
Remus smiles at his friend, digging in his jacket for a lighter to throw him. Sirius opens his hand and catches it gracefully. “She’s always been beautiful,” he says agreeably. 
“Be back in a minute.” 
You lift your head only after his footfall has faded away, gaze first at the window where Sirius has gone to smoke outside, and then the table where Remus is laying his book to rest. “I can’t stand him when he does that.” 
“Does what?” 
“Acts like I’m prettier than I am.” 
“When does he do that?” Remus asks, not quite monotone but getting there. 
“You know what I mean.” 
“Do I? You’re lovely, and Sirius can’t not notice because he’s Sirius.” 
“Can’t not attribute every weird man’s behaviour to my change in appearance.” 
“You’ve changed,” Remus acquiesces. “And boys notice you more, but I think that’s more to do with your sudden propensity for smiling and walking around with your chin up than any haircut or lipgloss.” 
“Oh, quite right, professor.” 
He pinches your thigh, savouring the laugh that bubbles out of you and your little jump in your seat. “You’re a trollop, is that what you want to hear?” he asks. 
Your face falls to your chin, and yes, Remus has liked you almost since he met you, and yes, your recent change in appearance has made you more eye-catching, but he means it when he says the pull of your demeanour is your new confidence. You’re stunning, the smile you give him, that hint of brightness in your eyes as you start to squint, it yanks sorely between his lungs. He wants to kiss you now more than he ever has before. 
“You really think he held my door ‘cos he thought I was pretty?” you ask. 
“I didn’t say that, did I? Sirius did.” He stands and stretches, feeling bold but not brave. “I think he held your door because you’re the most beautiful girl in any room you walk into, but what do I know?” he asks, grabbing his empty coffee cup from the small table in front. “I’ll get you a coffee.” 
“You dick,” you mutter. Such a short sentence, and yet he can tell you’re flustered without turning around to see it for himself. 
It’s a good thing —if he were to see you now, your shy smile, he’d end up telling you exactly how he feels about you. 
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idkyetxoxo · 8 days
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Cregan Stark - Northern Oaths
Summary - The fearless princess, captivated by the raw beauty of the North, faces a harrowing ordeal when abducted. Lord Cregan Stark, mesmerised by her charm and charisma, is driven by deep concern to rescue her, braving the dangers of the wild to save her.
Pairing - Cregan Stark x Velaryon reader
Warnings - Violence (injury)
Word count - 2698
Masterlist for Cregan • House of the Dragon General Masterlist.
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"I am more than capable of completing the journey on horseback, just like the others," I declared confidently, my fingers gently tracing the silky mane of the horse before me.
"Princess, I only mean to suggest that a carriage might offer a more comfortable option," Lord Stark replied, a hint of concern in his voice. I couldn't help but laugh, shaking my head in amusement.
"Lord Stark, my title may be 'princess,' but that does not mean I shy away from riding such a magnificent creature," I said, smiling as I carefully wove a braid into the horse's white mane, mirroring the intricate braid that adorned my hair.
"Of course," he conceded with a respectful nod. "Though I can only hope this fine beast provides as satisfactory a ride as your dragon," he added, a twinkle of humour in his eyes.
I chuckled at his words. "We best not let Silverwing hear such talk—she's rather possessive," I teased, swinging myself gracefully into the saddle.
As we began our journey to the Wall, the cold Northern air filled my lungs, invigorating and fresh. The landscape around us was a vast canvas of snow-draped hills and ancient trees, their branches heavy with frost. 
The North was wild, untamed, and breathtakingly beautiful.
Cregan rode beside me, his horse moving with practised ease through the snow-covered terrain. I took in the landscape, the wild beauty stretching out before us. 
"There's something captivating about the North," I remarked, my voice thoughtful. "It's untamed, yet undeniably beautiful."
Cregan glanced over at me, a faint smile curving his lips. "The North's beauty isn't always apparent at first glance, but it reveals itself to those who take the time to understand it."
I nodded, feeling a quiet understanding in his words. "I can see why your people hold it so dearly. There's a raw honesty to the land, something that feels... unspoiled."
He regarded me with a look of quiet appreciation. "It's rare to meet someone who sees the North as more than just a harsh, cold place. You seem to understand its true nature."
I met his gaze, a small smile tugging at my lips. "Perhaps it takes a certain kind of person to appreciate it. Someone who doesn't mind looking a little deeper."
"Or someone who values strength and resilience," he added, his tone thoughtful. "The North may be unforgiving, but it has a way of revealing what truly matters."
I laughed softly, shaking my head. "Comfort is all well and good, but it's often overrated, don't you think? I've always believed that a challenge is where you find the most reward."
Cregan's eyes flickered with something unreadable, though his expression remained composed. "Then the North might be exactly where you belong, Princess."
His words were simple, but they carried a weight that made me pause. Our exchange was subtle, an unspoken understanding that lingered in the crisp air between us. 
We spoke of the land, but it was clear that our words carried another layer of meaning, one that neither of us needed to fully articulate.
As our conversation continued, one of Cregan's men, a younger rider with a mischievous glint in his eye, drew his horse closer to us. He had been listening quietly, but now a playful smile crossed his face. 
"Begging your pardon, Princess," he said, glancing between Cregan and me, "but it seems to me that you handle a horse as well as any Northern rider. Perhaps you'd care to prove it?"
Cregan's expression tightened ever so slightly, a flicker of concern in his eyes. "That's not necessary," he interjected smoothly. "The road ahead is treacherous, and a race could be dangerous in these conditions."
I scoffed lightly, meeting Cregan's gaze with a challenge of my own. 
"Lord Stark, do you truly believe I would back down from a bit of friendly competition?" I asked, my tone teasing but resolute. "I've faced worse than a little snow."
The young rider grinned, clearly pleased with my response. "A race it is then, Princess," he said, his enthusiasm infectious. "We'll start on your count."
Cregan sighed, his protective instinct warring with his knowledge that he couldn't stop me. "Very well," he said quietly, though the concern in his voice remained.
I turned my attention to the rider, feeling the thrill of the challenge stir within me. "On three, then," I said, my voice steady with anticipation. "One... two... three!"
In an instant, we were off. The cold air rushed past my face, and the snow crunched beneath the horses' hooves as we sped across the landscape. The thrill of the race consumed my focus. I urged my horse forward, feeling the powerful muscles move beneath me as we cut through the snow, the land itself almost falling away in the rush.
Beside me, the rider pushed his horse to match mine, his competitive spirit driving him forward. 
As we disappeared from their sight, the other men exchanged grins and murmurs of approval, but it was Cregan's gaze that lingered on me, a mixture of respect and something deeper.
I finally pulled my horse to a screeching halt when a group of men suddenly blocked our path. Their appearance was jarring, dressed in heavy, untamed furs that spoke of a life lived in the harshest of conditions. 
The young rider beside me did the same, his expression shifting from excitement to alarm as we realized we were no longer alone.
I cast a glance over my shoulder, noting with growing unease the considerable distance we had put between ourselves and the rest of our group. A cold dread began to seep into my bones, replacing the thrill of the race.
"Apologies," I said, trying to maintain my composure as one of the men stepped forward, his rough hand reaching for the reins of my horse.
"Princess," the rider beside me murmured, his voice low and tense. I frowned at the worry etched across his face.
"These men are wildlings," he explained, his voice barely above a whisper. The term meant little to me, but the fear in his eyes was unmistakable.
"Aye, we are," one of the wildlings confirmed, a dark grin spreading across his face. "And if such royalty is riding these roads, then I believe we deserve an introduction." 
His hand shot out, gripping my arm with a roughness that made my breath hitch. I recoiled, shaking him off with a sharp twist of my wrist. 
"Lord Stark will have your heads," the young rider beside me interjected, his voice filled with defiance as he dismounted his horse and moved protectively to my side. "She is his guest."
"Shut up, boy," the wildling snarled, shoving him aside with a brutal force that sent him stumbling.
Before I could react, more wildlings emerged from the shadows, surrounding us with predatory intent. Panic surged through me as the man who had grabbed my arm yanked me off my horse, his grip like iron as I struggled against him. 
"Let me go!" I shouted, thrashing wildly as they dragged me away from my horse.
The rider attempted to intervene but he was quickly overpowered by the wildlings, who struck him down with ruthless efficiency. I fought with every ounce of strength I had, but the wildlings were relentless, their hands bruising as they forced me through the snow-covered forest.
"Lord Stark will find you! He will—" My words were cut off as one of the wildlings, a hulking brute with a cruel sneer, struck me hard across the head. 
The world spun violently, my vision blurring as pain exploded in my skull. I tried to stay conscious, to fight, but darkness closed in, my strength fading with every passing second.
The last thing I heard was the distant sound of my screams, echoing through the cold, unforgiving wilderness as I was pulled further away from safety, until finally, everything went black.
Back with the others, Cregan kept his pace steady, though his thoughts lingered on the race ahead. He couldn't help but feel a nagging unease. The thrill of the race was one thing, but the North was unforgiving, its dangers lurking just out of sight.
It wasn't long before the silence of the snowy landscape was shattered by a distant, panicked shout. Cregan's heart dropped as he urged his horse forward, the other men quickly following suit.
As they rounded a bend in the trail, the sight that met them was chilling. My horse lay sprawled on the ground, its beautiful silver-braided mane stained with blood. 
The elegant creature that had carried me so effortlessly mere moments ago now struggled weakly, a painful whine escaping its throat. Blood soaked the snow beneath it, turning the pristine white ground into a gruesome scene of red.
Cregan dismounted in one fluid motion, his eyes scanning the scene with mounting dread. Near the fallen horse, the young rider who had joined in the race lay slumped, his body bruised and bloodied. 
His breath came in ragged gasps, each one a struggle. His hand pressed weakly against a gash on his side, blood seeping between his fingers.
Cregan rushed to his side, dropping to one knee as the men formed a protective circle around them, their eyes scanning the forest for any further danger. 
"Where is she?" Cregan demanded, his voice sharp with fear and urgency. "What happened?"
The rider coughed, blood staining his lips as he struggled to speak. "I tried...tried my best," he gasped, his voice filled with pain and guilt. "Wildlings... they ambushed us. They took her."
Cregan's heart pounded in his chest as the rider's words sank in. 
"They took her?" he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper as if saying it out loud would make it more real, more terrible.
The rider nodded weakly, his eyes clouded with pain and regret. "I fought... but there were too many. They overpowered us... they knocked her out and dragged her into the woods. I'm sorry, my lord, I—"
"Don't," Cregan interrupted, his voice firm but gentle. "You did what you could. We'll get her back."
He turned to his men, his expression hardening into one of grim determination. 
"Search the area," he ordered, his voice carrying the weight of authority. "We need to find their trail. They can't have gone far."
The men nodded, their faces set with resolve as they spread out. Cregan stayed beside the injured rider, his jaw clenched as he surveyed the bloodstained snow. The sight of my horse, now struggling to breathe, filled him with a cold, simmering rage. 
This was his fault, he should have insisted on staying close, should have anticipated the dangers. I was out there, in the hands of wildlings, and every moment that passed put me in greater danger.
I woke to the sharp sting of cold air against my face, my body aching from the rough treatment I'd endured. Disoriented, I tried to move, only to find my hands bound tightly behind my back and a coarse gag tied around my mouth. 
Panic flared as I struggled against the restraints, my breath coming in shallow, desperate gasps.
The dim light filtered through the rough walls of a small, makeshift shelter. The air inside was thick with the scent of damp earth and unwashed bodies. My head throbbed from where I'd been struck, the pain radiating down my neck with each movement.
A shadow loomed over me, and I froze, my eyes widening in fear. A man with tangled hair and a filthy beard was kneeling beside me, his rough fingers combing through my hair as if inspecting it. 
His touch was far from gentle, tugging at the braids with a crude fascination. I recoiled inwardly, a shudder of revulsion passing through me, but I was helpless to stop him.
"Pretty princess," he muttered, his voice low and gravelly. "Never seen hair like this. Like silver... like moonlight."
I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block out the horror of the situation, but the terror gnawed at me, refusing to be ignored. My mind raced with thoughts of escape, but every idea crumbled against the reality of my bindings and the presence of the wildlings who had captured me. 
I could hear their voices outside, speaking in rough tones, the words indistinct but filled with a sinister edge.
Suddenly, the shelter was filled with the sounds of chaos, shouts, the clash of steel, and the unmistakable thud of bodies hitting the ground. My eyes snapped open as the wildling beside me stiffened, his hand falling away from my hair as he reached for his weapon.
The noise grew louder, closer, and I could hear the unmistakable sound of swords cutting through the air, of men fighting for their lives. My heart leapt with hope, even as fear clawed at me. 
Was it possible? Had Cregan and the others found me?
The wildling cursed under his breath, his attention now fully on the commotion outside. He scrambled to his feet, drawing a crude blade as he moved toward the entrance of the shelter. 
Before he could step outside, the flap was thrown open, and Cregan burst in, his sword dripping with blood, his eyes blazing with fury.
The wildling barely had time to react before Cregan's sword flashed in the dim light, striking him down with a swift, decisive blow. The man crumpled to the ground, lifeless, as Cregan turned his attention to me.
The fierce determination in his eyes softened the moment he saw me, bound and gagged on the cold ground. He dropped to his knees beside me, his hands trembling slightly as he quickly cut through the ropes that held me captive.
"Princess," he breathed, his voice thick with relief. "I'm here. You're safe now."
As the bindings fell away, I pulled the gag from my mouth, and a sob escaped my lips before I could stop it. The fear, the helplessness, the dark possibilities of what could have happened, it all overwhelmed me in that instant.
I looked up at him, seeing not just a lord, but the man who had risked everything to bring me back. Tears streamed down my face as I reached out for him, needing to feel something solid, something real.
Cregan gathered me into his arms, holding me tightly against his chest as if he could shield me from the horrors I had endured. 
"It's alright," he whispered, his voice raw with emotion. "You're safe, I swear it."
I clung to him, the sobs coming harder now, the terror of the past few hours releasing itself in waves. His presence was the only thing grounding me, keeping me from falling apart completely.
Cregan held me through it all, his hand gently stroking my hair as he murmured soft reassurances. The sounds of battle outside faded, replaced by the distant, muffled voices of his men securing the area. 
In that moment, all I could focus on was the steady rhythm of Cregan's heartbeat beneath my cheek, a reminder that I was no longer alone, no longer at the mercy of those who had taken me.
Finally, as the tears began to subside, I pulled back slightly, looking up at him through tear-blurred eyes. 
"I was so scared," I finally managed to whisper, my voice trembling and weak. "I—I thought..." My voice broke, and the words wouldn't come.
Cregan's thumb brushed away a tear from my cheek, his expression filled with a sorrow so deep it made my heart ache.
"I know," he said softly, his voice filled with a deep, unspoken regret. "And I apologise I wasn't there sooner."
I shook my head, my grip on his arms tightening. "You found me. That's all that matters."
He nodded, his gaze intense as he searched my face, as if reassuring himself that I was truly there, unharmed. 
"I won't let anything happen to you," he vowed, the weight of his words settling between us like a promise etched in stone. 
In that moment, surrounded by the remnants of the battle, the cold, and the lingering fear, I felt something else, an undeniable bond forged in the crucible of danger. 
I clung to the knowledge that Cregan had saved me but more than that, I held onto the realization that in his arms, the cold wilderness of the North didn't feel so wild anymore, it felt like home, like safety.
 After all, there has never lived a Stark who forgot an oath.
A/n - There was sm more I wanted to add and once it hit over 2.5k words I realised I had to reel it in lmaoo
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ariaxmu · 1 month
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my shy, shy girl
a mattheo riddle x shy!femreader fic
summary: mattheo keeps trying to confess how he feels, and you keep running away.
warnings: alcohol usage, maybe a lil swearing, just cutesy fluff.
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''y/n, can i talk to you for a second?'' i hear someone behind me speak up, as i quickly turn around to see him. i gulp, gripping onto my books as i step back a tiny bit, shaking my head no as i rush away.
''w- why?'' he calls after me as i internally cringe at myself, again.
this keeps happening. mattheo will somehow sneak up on me, ask to talk, i say no and run away like an idiot. i have always been a shy person, if you can even call it that. nervous, anxious person. i can speak to maybe two people without feeling like i cannot breathe.
and which makes it even worse, is that i know what mattheo wants to talk to me about. pansy has told me many, many times. and the fact i know makes me even more nervous. apparently he has been crushing on me for a while now, and wants to ask me our or tell me how he feels, i don't know.
but i like him too. i have admired him from afar for years now, too anxious to tell him. and i would love more than anything to be with him, but every time he approaches me, my fight or flight kicks in and i just run.
i go to my usual place, in the corner of the library, sitting down and cursing at myself again. i know how embarrassing it is, and i know he's going to get tired of it and give up. that is the last thing i want.
but i just don't know what to do. i take a deep breath, face palming as i notice pansy approaching me.
''it happened again didn't it.'' she says, crossing her arms.
i nod, shamefully.
''come on. i have an idea.'' she says sternly, grabbing my hand and pulling me away with her. i am dragged into the common room, and up to our dorm room.
''okay, now hear me out.'' she says softly, sitting me down beside her. ''my friend used to be the same as you. but do you know what helped?'' she says. ''alcohol''.
i raise an eyebrow. ''you think alcohol is going to help me?'' i giggle.
''there's a party at the black lake tonight. i have alcohol here. mattheo is going to be there. we are going to get you nice and drunk before we head down, and you're going to be so confident you won't know what to do with yourself'' she smiles proudly.
''i don't know...'' i say, already feeling nervous.
''let's at least give it a try, you could have the best night of your entire life, and if we don't do something soon then he's going to get tired of being shut down and you'll lose your chance to be with the guy i know you are in love with'' she says a little softer, putting her arm around me. i sigh, knowing she's right.
i nod, smiling softly. ''okay, but i can't go looking like this and i have no party clothes'' i say.
''don't worry, i do.'' she smirks, rushing over to her closet.
''oh boy...''
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
i look into the mirror, as pansy stands behind me very proudly. i'm wearing just a simple little back dress, my long black hair curled ever so slightly, and a little makeup too. i do feel pretty.
''you look beautiful. mattheo is going to die'' she grins, grabbing my drink and handing it to me. ''drink up, angel''.
and i do.
and i drink a little more.
aaand a little more.
and my body starts to feel a little tingly, my face feeling warm as i look over at pansy. ''let's go now before it wares off!!''
''it wont ware off, you just drink more. but sure, it's dark now so lets go!'' she giggles, topping up my lip gloss as we rush down to the party.
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧
around two hours into the party, i am extremely drunk, and no sign of mattheo. he was supposed to be here, and nobody knows where he is. i look around for him, too drunk to really be nervous, just wanting to see him now.
''have you seen mattheo?'' i ask a random person.
''i just saw him go around there with some girl'' the guy says, pointing towards the castle. i furrow my brows, feeling a pit in my stomach as i rush around the wall, slightly peeking to see if i can see anybody.
and there he is. sitting very closely to a girl on the bench, smiling and laughing with her. it hits me like a truck, am i too late? please, please tell me i'm not too late. i slightly stumble to the side, a little too drunk from my own good and his head snaps towards me.
''y/n?'' he says confused, quickly standing up. the girl ushers him towards me, and she rushes off herself.
i sigh, beginning to feel tears well up in my eyes as he walks over.
''i'm really drunk please don't look at me'' i whimper, covering my face as i throw my red plastic cup to the floor.
''i-i didn't even realize you came to this party... who let you drink this much?'' he says, confused and worried, holding my hands so i don't fall over.
''p-pansy said that if i have alcohol then i wouldn't be so nervous to talk to you, and t=then you never showed up so i kept drinking so i wouldn't get anxious again, b-but now i'm just really drunk and emotional and im so sorry-''
''shh, shh it's okay'' he whispers, wiping a tear from my face. ''don't worry angel, come sit down for a minute, i have a potion here that'll make you feel better faster okay?'' he says softly, helping my walk over to the bench.
''i-i'm so sorry, mattheo. i promise i'm not avoiding you because i don't like you, because i'm really really in love with you'' -hiccup- ''but i get so nervous, and now seeing you w-with another girl i think i missed my chance and-''
''shh, shhh'' he coos, ''you did not miss your chance i promise. that girl was my friend, i have been getting advice from her about you and how to make you less nervous around me but- i guess this is one way to doit'' he giggled.
''drink some of this, we're going to sit here quietly for like 2 minutes and you will feel much better okay?'' he says quietly, passing me the potion, and i drink it. i nod, passing it back as i lay my head on his shoulder as i sniffle.
''god'' he gulps, cheeks a little flushed as i cuddle into him, not really realizing what i am doing.
but soon i do, the potion kicks in and i sit up, wiping the tears from my face as i feel like myself again.
''i-i'm sorry about that'' i whisper, realizing how much i had revealed and that i'm also sat centimeters away from him.
''don't apologize, baby. i'm just glad you're here'' he says softly, head tilting to the side as he looks at me with gentle eyes and smile.
“i-” i gulp. “i mean.. everything i said, though” i whisper.
“i know… i think i’ve probably been in love with you for even longer, and i just didn’t want to make you uncomfortable so i hid it for a while but uh” he stops and scoots a little closer to me. “my feelings got too strong for me to just ignore them anymore.” he says. god he looks so pretty too.
the moonlight illuminates each of us. “so.. what happens now then? i’ve never really done this before… as you can imagine” i say, fiddling with the rings on my fingers.
“it’s okay… we don’t have to rush anything, id just… really like to call you my- well, i don’t want anybody to think either of us are single if that makes sense?” he seemingly cringes at himself.
“are you asking me to be your girlfriend?” i ask quietly, smiling softly at him.
“god yes, please” he grins. it’s weird, im completely sober now but i don’t feel nervous. it just feels, comfortable.
“then yes, i’d like that” i giggle.
he lets out a breath, scooting even closer to me now.
“i know you’re probably going to freak out, but i want to do something.” he says plainly.
i nod.
“just, close your eyes” he whispers.
i close my eyes.
“take a deep breath, my shy girl” he whispers.
i take a deep breath.
its quiet for a moment, but then i feel it. his soft, warm lips pressing onto mine ever so slightly. i kiss back slightly, but he pulls away, searching my face for any dislike or uncomfortableness.
my eyes stay closed for a moment, just in shock.
before he attatched our lips together again, i let out a little squeak. he smiles against my lips, kissing me a little harder as my hands grip onto his shirt.
and after a moment of bliss he pulls away, cheeks flushed and eyes glazed over. i look at him, “oh my god i love you” i blurt out.
he grins, “oh i love you too”, pressing another small peck against my lips.
“come on, i’ll walk you to your dorm. you probably need a good sleep after today” he giggled. “come on, sweet girl.” he pulls me up, holding onto my hand as we walk quietly but comfortably up to my dorm.
he stands at my door, leaning against the door frame as i open it up.
“i’ll see you tomorrow, baby” he whispers, kissing my forehead, before stepping back and heading towards the stairs again.
i furrow my eyebrows. “wait!” i speak out to him.
he turns back, a relieved look on his face.
“i-i know we should sleep but i don’t want you to go yet” i whisper, as he walks back up to my door.
“thank god because i really don’t want to leave either”.
i giggle. “why don’t you sleep here tonight? i-i mean, pansy will be staying with blaise anyway so, nobody will be here” i say, shyly.
“i’d love that, let me grab my clothes from my dorm quickly and i’ll be right back, okay?”
i nod, and he presses a soft kiss against my lips, before grinning as he rushes out of the room.
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧
i hope this was okay:3 i kind of yapped through most of this and im not even sure if its good. but i hope you enjoyed none the less. love u girls! xoxo
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cokou · 2 months
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What OP Men Post About you on Reddit PT2
OP 男性があなたについて Reddit に投稿するもの。
𝑴𝒖𝒍𝒕𝒊 𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑭𝒊𝒄
sum. Your boyfriend posted about you on reddit. 𝑹𝑬𝑫𝑫𝑰𝑻 PT1 ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ tw. Fluff & Crack! Slight nsfw on shanks part😭 ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ a/n. Im using my free time to upload my works, i hope its okay to have late uploads😭😭 // Do not translate or transfer any of my works, this is my only account (exp. AO3) will not be cross posted anywhere else. // Masterlist♥
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r/AITA Swrdsmn.Zoro ⬆︎ 11.7k ⬇︎ 309
Am I the asshole for refusing to take my girlfriends map route?
My girlfriend loves to take me on a different of adventures throughout the world, her main favorites were taking simple walks that would eventually end up at the other side of the city. She drags me along with her always even if i had told her multiple times that it's too early to go for a walk. My girl, sets her alarm at 3am and wakes me up to go outside and walk with her.
About a week ago, she broke the news to ME, that she booked us a hiking trip. Me being myself, i usually laze around the house and get some sleep, so hiking isn't definitely my thing. But either way she bought us 2 hiking tickets up a snowy mountain.
When we had 4 days prior before setting out for hiking, she immediately drew a map from the place we were going. I admit that she is definitely good at drawing maps, but i studied them and absolutely got confused. I gave up on doing so.
We arrived to our destination and she immediately grabbed her map out of the bag, she tried pulling me to the right side of the mountain but there was a map hanging by the wall of the cabin shop saying that the left side is where the mountain hiking is located. I talked to her about it and she told me that the map they made is probably fake.
We got into a small argument and i parted ways with her towards the left side and i fot lost, I was reported as missing and a group of search party was launched to get me back, Now I'm back with my girlfriend's hold and she's mad at me for not taking her word. We talked to the cabin shop for the map route and found out that there was no such thing as a cabin back on the mountain.
Comments:
Chef_Sanji: yta, obvi your gf deserves someone better. ➣Swrdsmn.Zoro replied: I wasn't asking you ➣Chef_Sanji replied: Obviously you were, you posted this so you're asking everyone. (COMMENT WARNING)
r/meat Straw_Luffy ⬆︎ 12.7k ⬇︎ 103
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My girlfriend cooked me this today :D !
I'm absolutely thinking that she's better than @chef_sanji! Her cooking is so yummy i could eat all of this in just one bite🤤 THANK YOU SO MUCH @Your.Name !!
Comments:
Chef_Sanjii: IT LOOKS SO GOOD, GIVE ME SOME TOO YN-CHAN❤️❤️ ➣Straw_Luffy replied: No way it's mine! ➣Chef_Sanjii replied: I WASN'T TALKING TO YOU ➣Your.Name replied to Chef_Sanjii: I will when we meet again! :D (Liked by Chef_Sanjii)
r/wifey ItsmeShanks ⬆︎ 47k ⬇︎ 1.7k
—Attach photo of you
All night, all day, with clothes, naked, doggy style, missionary, full nelson, in public, in private, in bed, on the sofa, with toys, vanilla, piv, anal, boob job, hand job, fingering, masturbation, in the ship, on the floor, top to bottom, on sea, on land, on my face, on your tits, helicopter style, pegging, on camera, in front of everyone, in an alleyway, in the shower, standing up, sitting, laying down, bent over, no stopping, finishing inside, finishing outside.
@Your.Name
Comments:
Your.Name: WHAT THE FUCK SHANKS (Liked by ItsmeShanks)
r/girlfriends Com.Acee ⬆︎ 113k ⬇︎ 12.3k
My girlfriend is so beautiful, she absolutely deserves the world.
Literally shes the best, I don't know what i even did to desrve her presence besides me, but im sos so thankful for it. Everyday i wake up next to her it feels like im blessed eith yet another peaceful and loving day knowing that everything is complete with her by my side.
She smells so good that it stays on my sense of smell, the way her fragrance litter her room and immediately smells like her once i enter is so peaceful and sweet. I absolutely love her perfume, i bought one of them to keep on my room and i spray tiny bits of it on me whenever she's not with me now.
I seldom carry her little gifts in my small bag whenever im away from her to remind me of her presence, her perfume never leave my hands. My shelves are filled to the brim with her godly scented perfumes, her perfume is wuite expensive yet it doesn't matter. Her little girts are kept in a glass covered shelf to ensure protection and will never be broken.
I love gifting her her favorite items and seeing the cutest smiles on her face, i really really wish to spend my eternity with her forever. @Your.Name i love you so much😭😭
Comments:
Your.Name: THIS IS SO CUTE AHHH ➣Com.Acee replied: ILYYYY❤️❤️ (Liked by Your.Name)
r/Girlfriends MetalPipeLover_Sabo ⬆︎ 46.1k ⬇︎ 429
I need advice on where to take my girl on a date! D:
Any recommendations for places that's suitable for a date? I'm planning to propose to my dear girlfriend, we've been together for a solid 6 years and a half. We've talked about getting married and i think today is the day i propose to her. I can't think of any place thats perfect enough to do so.
Anything that would have a good view or maybe a little cute cat cafe beside it would be fine, I'm thinking of a little elegant theme..or maybe a little cute one? I really cant decide, i contacted my brothera but they couldn't take a single thing serious. Please actually take me seriously😭
My girl isn't that picky, but i myself think that what ever crosses my mind is simply not enough and that she deserves much better than what im thinking of, but of course i still need to atleast make the proposal romantic right?? 😭😭 Please give me recommendations, im absolutely desperate...
Comments:
Com.Acee: The grand canyon idk🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️ ➣MetalPipeLover_Sabo replied: ACE GET OFF MY COMMENT SECTION😞😞😞 Straw_Luffy: Take her where there's meat! :D ➣MetalPipeLover_Sabo replied: No that's not good enough. Unknown: A flower field maybe lol? (Liked by MetalPipeLover_Sabo)
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©Cokou 2024, all works belong to me.
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niningtori · 3 months
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cruel intentions | part one
part two out now!
pairing: choi beomgyu x you
summary: you live your life (un)comfortably in the shadow of your bright and beautiful best friend, chaeyoung. when campus heartthrob, beomgyu, takes an interest in you, you can't help but feel like it's just a way for him to get closer to your beloved best friend. in reality, his intentions are far crueler than that. or, beomgyu agrees to get with the campus' resident dark cloud in order to win a bet with his friend.
genre: romance, angst, campus life, clichés and melodrama (as per uje)
warnings: brief mentions of reader's abusive household, reader has almost comically low self esteem
word count: 7.8k
notes: hi... r u mad at me? i know i've been gone for a month or so and definitely have other projects i've promised to work on, but i've had a lot of personal stuff going on and couldn't focus on anything. i love this trope so much tho and couldn't stop myself from wanting to try my hand at it. i'm not expecting much from this seeing as how it's devoid of any suggestive content, but i figured it'd be better to post it so you all know i'm alive. if people want a part two, i will gladly make one since i really like this trope, but i do want to know if that's the case before i write anything. anyway, i think that's it. enjoy, my lovely friends :^)
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you’re okay. you really, really are. you wouldn’t say you’re happy, per se, but things are alright as they are. there are worse things than living in the shadow of your bright and beautiful best friend, whom you love very, very much. chaeyoung is nothing if not dazzling, so much so that everyone falls flatly at her feet in the wake of one of her smiles. you are, as a matter of fact, no exception. chaeyoung has been like a savior from your unstable home life ever since middle school. she has stood up for you when you were too afraid to stand up for yourself and has become more like your family than your family ever was. even so, are you envious of the way that everything seems to go her way? you’d be lying if you said it doesn’t bother you at times, but it becomes more and more bearable every day. besides, you can’t blame her for it; she has no idea that you’re considered as little more than her sidekick and, for lack of a better term, a mob character in the colorful campus life you’ve grown to accept as not your cup of tea. 
being chaeyoung’s best friend comes with “perks” such as invites to what would otherwise be completely exclusive parties you wouldn't even dream of being considered for, but you can’t count how many times you’ve been approached with the intent of getting closer to her, so you refrain from any such affairs and opt to focus on your studies and fulltime job. in the beginning, your feelings would be hurt when men you were interested in feigned mutual attraction in hopes that they’d get closer to chaeyoung, but you’ve come to accept things as they are and you’re now known for your flatout rejection of anyone who attempts to woo you. 
these past few years, what with your heavy coursework, demanding job, and feelings of inferiority, have been grueling, to be sure, but you’re finally in your last semester and closing act of this entire charade you’ve come to call your college career. in a few months, you'll be a free woman and you’ll be able to begin your life as a fully fledged adult. chaeyoung will remain as your best friend, you know, but you won’t have to be compared to her every second since you two are set on very, very different career paths. life, as it is, feels so small and unvaried to the point of suffocation, but all of that will be over once you’ve entered the post-college workforce. or, at least, you hope it will. 
-
heeseung is lovesick, to put things in the simplest of terms. 
“i just don’t see why chaeyoung won’t give me a chance! i really, really like her,” he whines.
“i know,” beomgyu says with a roll of his eyes. 
“so why can’t you help me out?” he pouts.
“what the hell am i supposed to do about it?” beomgyu asks with a hint of irritation.
“gyu, you sit next to her and her friend in class! put in a good word for me!” he pleads.
“she’s always talking to that girl, so it’s hard to even say two words to her. you know that.” 
heeseung is, again, pouting, but the machinations in his head are firing in overtime as he searches for a solution. suddenly, his face alights as if he’s found the perfect plot. beomgyu’s wariness increases tenfold as he waits to hear whatever fucked up plan heeseung has put together.
“i know! what if you distract her friend so i can actually talk to her? and you can find out what type of guy chaeyoung likes.” he looks so earnest in this moment, but beomgyu cringes at the idea.
“dude, no. that’s fucked up,” he says.
“c’mon, i know you can do it!”
“well, yeah,” beomgyu nods in agreement, “but i’m not pretending to be interested in somebody just so you can fuck her friend. that’s wrong.”
“oh, please, gyu. we all know you’ve done worse.” he’s right. still, beomgyu vehemently disagrees. heeseung, in his desperation, can only think of one way to force him to give in: attack his pride.
“what, are you scared she won’t fall for it?” heeseung teases. “well, i can’t blame you. i heard people calling her the ‘iron maiden’ and that she won’t let anybody near her. why would she fall for you of all people?” beomgyu scoffs at his insolence.
“i could get her if i really wanted to,” he replies. “i just don’t feel like it.” 
“sure, whatever. i know you’re just scared she’ll reject the ‘great beomgyu’ and you won’t be able to keep saying you’re the hottest guy on campus.” beomgyu actually rolls his eyes at this.
“i bet you i could get her to fall in love with me by the end of the semester if i really wanted her to,” beomgyu argues petulantly. 
“prove it,” heeseung challenges with a raise of his eyebrows. now he’s got him.
“not for free,” beomgyu says with a smirk.
“... fine. what do you want?” 
“i want you to pay my half of the rent for the rest of the school year.” heeseung whines in response, but he quickly makes the calculations in his head and decides it’s worth it when he takes into consideration how fucking hot chaeyoung is. 
“deal.” 
“deal.”
and so it begins.
-
beomgyu, like most people, hasn’t really paid much attention to you before now. he barely even has an idea of what you look like, to be perfectly honest, but he can immediately figure out who you are just by looking to chaeyoung’s side as she's walking through the classroom door and seeing who’s sticking there. he takes in your features as if he’s seeing you for the first time, and he kind of is, frankly speaking. you’re not nearly as pretty as chaeyoung, and you definitely lack the aura she has, but you’re not bad by any means. your clothes are ill-fitting and your entire demeanor is soaked with an air of exhaustion, but if he looks carefully, it’s not like you’re an eyesore or anything. still, he’s considerably better looking than you are. this should be easy.
“hey,” he says softly in his baritone voice when you slide into your usual seat next to his, chaeyoung sliding in on the other side of you. to his surprise, you say nothing in response.
“hey,” he tries again, a little louder, thinking you just didn’t hear him or something.
“oh. hey,” you say confusedly before turning back to look at chaeyoung and continuing your conversation with her. well, that’s not nothing, he guesses, but heeseung sends him a knowing, goading glance from his seat and beomgyu feels himself growing irritated. 
when the professor enters, you turn to face her with a focused face and immediately pull out your pen to begin copying whatever she says down with solemnity. 
beomgyu is staring so intently, he’s surprised you don’t feel his eyes boring into the side of your face, but you don’t seem to notice a thing. before long, your professor announces that there will be a final project that will require a partner. chaeyoung excitedly grabs your arm with a grin, to which you answer her with a soft smile of your own. 
unluckily for the two of you, your giddiness is short-lived when she pairs chaeyoung with the person sitting on the other side of her, and you are stuck with the boy who randomly greeted you earlier. 
“i’m glad we’re partners,” beomgyu says with a smile as soon as the professor is finished relaying the details of the project with the class. 
“why?” you blink in confusion. 
“‘cause you’re really smart, right? and cute, too,” he chuckles. 
“oh, i guess,” you say flatly after a short pause. “when do you want to work on the project?” there is no wavering in your voice when you speak to him, and you look directly in his eyes, which is a far cry from the sweet, trembling voices and shy glances he’s used to. do you not find him attractive or something? no, that can’t be it. he’s everybody’s type. 
“i’m free tomorrow after 5. do you want to come to my place?” you tense up, but he keeps pushing. “you know, so there are no distractions?” you’re wary, of course, but you see no hint of sinister ulterior motives. besides, he can’t possibly see you in an impure way, so you agree with a low hum. 
“great. i’ll see you then.”
-
you arrive at his doorstep with your usual exhausted, haphazard look. some part of him thought you might try to doll yourself up to some extent, seeing as how you’re coming to the apartment of the hottest guy on campus and all, but he can sniff out no such effort. your hair is carelessly thrown up and your face is devoid of anything but the barest amount of makeup. your eyes are tired and there’s a permanent crease in your brows. still, he figures that complimenting you is worth a shot.
“hey, you look pretty today,” he says warmly. you do nothing but stare with a withering glance, but the grin never leaves his face.
“hi. where did you want to start?” you ask while following him to his living room and setting your bag on his couch. if he feels slighted by you ignoring his compliment, he doesn’t show it. 
“i thought we could review the rubric first and go from there,” he shrugs.
“okay.”
he makes several attempts at small talk, but they go nowhere. you are laser focused on the project and don’t even hesitate to reject any and all advances from him to the point where he’s beginning to grow frustrated. maybe you aren’t called the iron maiden for nothing, but the prospect of having his rent paid for the rest of the year is enough to keep him from giving up. he decides he’ll try a different approach.
“do you want some coffee? you look tired,” he says gently. you’re actually surprised at his observation, and he can tell. 
“yes, actually. thank you.” 
when he finishes making your coffee, he hands you a mug and you thank him while sporting a shy, grateful smile. momentarily, he’s stunned. he’s never cared enough to look for your smiles, and even if he had, he’d never see them unless you were with chaeyoung, but he realizes you look infinitely prettier while wearing one. 
“of course. if you don’t mind me asking, is there something wrong? you look really tired lately.”
“i-i’m just working overtime these days. th-thank you for noticing,” you sputter nervously. seriously? his feigned consideration of your personal circumstances is what makes you flustered? well, whatever. he can work with this.
“work is important, but your health is more important. don’t spread yourself too thin.” if your cheeks felt hot before, they’re scorching to the touch now. 
“i… i’ll keep that in mind. thanks.”
he doesn't probe much more deeply than that for fear of scaring you away, but you seem to have opened up just a bit in light of his thoughtful words. when you two decide to wrap up for the night, he walks you to his doorway.
“thank you for tonight,” you mumble with another one of your rare smiles. 
“you’re welcome,” he replies with a grin. 
you’re about to walk through his doorway when you turn back suddenly. before he can ask about it, your next words come tumbling out.
“chaeyoung likes confident men, but not to the point where they’re obnoxious. she hates movie dates because she wants to talk too much during them, but she likes stargazing, preferably with a picnic, too. she won’t text first, but she’ll respond quickly if she likes you back.” he’s stunned into silence and tries to stutter out something to the effect of “i wasn't trying to get you to tell me about her”, but all you do is give a knowing stare and he realizes he’s been caught. you leave his apartment and he’s left reeling. so much for being discreet.
-
the next time he sees you, he knows he has to apologize, but it isn’t until you meet again for the project that he decides the timing is finally right. 
you’re sitting on his couch, scrolling through your laptop as you proofread what you two have written so far when he musters up the courage to say something.
“listen,” he begins cautiously. you lazily look up at him and he tries to swallow the lump in his throat. 
“i… i think i owe you an apology and an explanation. i’m sorry for making you feel like i was just being nice to you so you could tell me about chaeyoung, but i really have no interest in her, i swear.” well, he’s half lying and half telling the truth, but he means it when he says he couldn’t give less of a shit about her. he can’t say he wasn’t just being nice to you in order to get his rent paid, though.
you look confused for a moment, as if you don’t even know what he’s referencing, but realization dawns on your face as you finally remember what he’s talking about.
“oh, it’s okay. it doesn’t bother me, anyway,” you reply with a shrug. 
“i’m serious,” he says firmly. “i really have no interest in her. to be honest, i’m interested in someone else at the moment.”
“oh,” you respond flatly, and you turn back to your laptop as if you’re bored and couldn’t care less about the most popular guy on campus actually having feelings for someone, for once. he snaps your laptop shut and you look up at him in surprise.
“i mean it. the person i actually want to get to know more about is you.”
your jaw drops in pure shock. 
“m-me? why?” you say, as if you can’t possibly believe that anyone could take a genuine interest in you. for some reason, he feels a pang in his heart at your sheer incredulity. sure, you’re no chaeyoung, but it's not like someone liking you is so rare of an affair as to throw you off kilter like this, right? 
“what’s wrong with me wanting to get to know a pretty girl like you?” you scoff and roll your eyes. you know you’re no trophy by any stretch of the imagination, so you have a hard time believing he means a single word.
“yeah, right,” you snort derisively. “the cutest guy on campus has a crush on me. you can’t honestly think i’d fall for that, can you? if you’re trying to flatter me to get me to do this entire project by myself, keep dreaming.” he’s surprised at your insistence. well, you’re not entirely incorrect. his intentions are impure if nothing else, but for some reason, he’s determined to prove you wrong. 
“oh, so you think i’m the cutest guy on campus?” he teases with a smirk and a wiggle of his eyebrows. as if you didn’t realize you said those words yourself, you look more flustered than you’d care to admit.
“w-well, i —” 
“i’ll take it. and no, i’m not trying to get you to carry our grade on this. i genuinely just want to get to know you better.” and he doesn't know how much of that sentiment he really means, but he does know it means more than it should.
-
after a few more meetups, you’re pretty much convinced that beomgyu truly has no interest in chaeyoung. he never asks about her, and even when you offhandedly comment on her, he never pushes to know more. he just hums in recognition or perfunctorily answers. as for believing that he sincerely has interest in you? you’re not sure you believe that, but when the project is finished within a week and he asks you out on a date, you can’t help but seriously consider this previously inconceivable thought. 
“what did you say?!” chaeyoung asks excitedly once you relay that beomgyu, of all people, has asked you to go to dinner with him. 
“i said i’d think about it,” you sigh.
“you should go! text him right now and tell him you’re going!” 
“i don’t know, chae. you’ve heard the rumors about him. he’s a player…” 
“who cares about the past?! i haven’t heard anything like that in a while. plus, it’s worth taking a chance, right? you haven’t been on a date in god knows how long. if you don’t text him, i will!” she exclaims. “gimme your phone, i’ll do it right the fuck now!”
“no!” you counter, clutching your phone to your chest protectively. “i… i’ll do it myself,” you mutter.
“that’s my girl,” she says with a sweet grin.
-
“i feel stupid,” you mumble as chaeyoung applies the finishing touches to your hair. 
“well, you don’t look stupid, i’ll tell you that much. you’re absolutely gorgeous,” she boasts. 
“as if,” you mutter, but you know she truly believes it. chaeyoung has always argued that you’re beautiful, even though you know that the rest of the world, including you, doesn’t think so.
“i’m being serious!” she says with a playful smack to your shoulder. “you look hot! i bet he’s gonna drool when he sees you.” 
“alright, you’re going too far,” you say with a shy smile.
“go! you’re going to be late,” she chastises. you check the time and realize she’s right. you hurriedly grab your things and scramble out the door. 
beomgyu offered to pick you up, but you vehemently denied this on account of the restaurant being a 5 minute walk from your apartment. you need the walk to calm your nerves, anyway.
when you enter the restaurant, all bright-eyed and beautiful, beomgyu looks up from his phone in sheer shock. he knew you were actually pretty cute under the exhausted veneer you have permanently placed over you, but he never knew just how stunning you are when you don’t look like life has run you over. you’re actually wearing form-fitting clothes for once, too, and he likes what he sees.
when you lock eyes with him, you actually smile, which you have been doing a lot more lately, and he can’t help but return it with a smile of his own. it’s a little more eager and sincere than he realizes.
“you look gorgeous,” he remarks when you sit down in front of him. 
“you’re exaggerating…” you mumble embarrassedly. 
“i’m not. you’re stunning.” and he means it.
“th-thank you,” you say, and the air is thick with tension before you clear your throat and ask him if he's already ordered drinks.
the date goes surprisingly smoothly, all filled with laughter and banter. he already knew you were smart, but he realizes how funny you actually are when you’re not so tense. you match his mischievousness with your own and it feels so much like a real date that he forgets why he’s doing this in the first place. 
he’s surprised to hear that you’re actually quite interested in music. you share a mutual interest in a lot of bands and you even offer up some recommendations of your own, which he earnestly writes down in his notes app. when he mentions that he actually plays the guitar, your eyes light up in interest. 
“will you play for me, someday?” you ask excitedly. 
“of course,” he smiles softly. a lot of girls have asked him to play for them, and he has always happily obliged in order to get in their pants, but this time feels… different somehow. like he really just wants to show you how much he loves music and creating his own.
as you leave the restaurant, he grabs your hand and laces it with his. to both of your surprise, you don’t pull away and even let him gently swing your hand back and forth. you actually look like a real couple. you feel like one, too.
-
dates with beomgyu become a happy, regular occurrence. you’re not necessarily together as of now, but it’s been about a month and you’re genuinely considering something serious with him. he seems to eagerly reciprocate this sentiment if his constant invitations are of any indication. 
he suggests walking to the nearest park to sightsee, and you agree before you can even fully consider it. as you walk through the trail and take a seat on a bench in front of the pretty, sparkling pond, he locks eyes with you. you look so beautiful like this, eyes devoid of their usual exhaustion and wariness, replaced by a sense of peace. he can’t help but try his luck and lean down to, hopefully, join your lips with his for the first time. usually, he’d have tried this a lot sooner, but for reasons unknown to him, he’s treated you with a lot more care and reverence than he’s ever treated anyone before. a sudden ringing interrupts the moment, though. you casually take out your phone and all the aforementioned contentment in your eyes flushes out as you see the contact information. 
“h-hello?” you say unsteadily as you unlace your hand with his and walk away. 
he can’t quite hear what you’re saying from the distance you’re at, but he can see how wound up you are. he tries to be considerate and tune out your conversation, but when he hears you yelling and the person on the other end of the line yelling back, he can’t help but be engrossed. you’re borderline screaming now about something related to money. something about a sibling of yours, maybe. something about how you’re tired of being taken advantage of and how the other person is being unfair. you’re angry, he can tell. indignant, even, but all of that leaves your demeanor when you deflate with insincere apologies and a sense of relenting out of sheer defeat. after the explosive call ends, you walk back to him with the same exhaustion permeating through your bones that he’s become so familiar with. even though you’re dressed and primped so beautifully, nothing can cover the tiredness of your entire person.
“i’m sorry you had to hear that,” you say in a monotone voice. 
“o-oh. it’s alright. is… is everything okay?” he tries tentatively.
“yeah,” you say with the most forced smile he’s ever seen. 
“do you… do you want to talk about it?” he asks.
you sigh. normally, you would not. normally, you’d brush it off and just call chaeyoung to blow off some steam, but for some reason, you’re so frustrated that you can’t help but want to tell somebody other than chaeyoung because you know you rely too much on her for comfort. as for that somebody being beomgyu, you, for some reason, somewhat trust that he won’t go around telling everyone about your family troubles. you also vaguely feel that he won’t judge you, either.
for his part, beomgyu genuinely seems concerned. he seems like he wants to listen. he’s shown you, in the past month that you’ve known him, that he really does notice when you’re tired and cares enough to ask about you. he tries to cheer you up with coffee and snacks even though you have refused to divulge any of the details of your personal life thus far. what’s the harm in trying to trust him? you feel like you can tell him about this, so you do. and once you do, it’s like you can’t stop.
you tell him all the dirty details of your home life and just how fucked up it is. you tell him about how you’re forced to work a full time job on top of being a full time student to help with your family back at home. it’s not that you mind helping out, but they show you no consideration or care and you’re always left feeling like you’re just there to be their workhorse no matter how many times you tell them that you’re tired. the only time they ever contact you is to try to wring every last penny out of you. your sibling, of course, is the exception, and is the only reason why you keep doing it aside from your unfettered guilt that you were practically born feeling. your need for validation has not sprung from nothing, and it seems like your money is the only way to get it from the people you reluctantly call your family. you don’t delve into details about the abuse you’ve endured, either, but it doesn’t take a genius to figure it out. still, you can't help but love them. you just wish they loved you, too.
when you’re finished speaking, you don’t even realize that you’re crying until beomgyu gingerly wipes your tears away. oh no, you think. you’ve said too much. he’s going to be scared off just like every other guy you’ve told about your emotional baggage. who would want somebody whose life is in shambles? your self esteem is low, your financial circumstances are almost as equally dire, and you have no redeeming qualities you can think of. what have you done?
you hurriedly apologize for your outburst and wipe your tears away in a frenzy. 
“s-sorry. just ignore me,” you say with a shaky breath and he can see you folding into yourself. 
“why would i ignore you?” he asks, cupping your face. “you haven't done anything wrong. i’m so sorry that you’re being treated this way, and i’m even more sorry that you feel the way you do. you don’t deserve this, you know?” 
your eyes snap up to his at his words. does he really mean them? his eyebrows are knitted in concern and he seems like he really does care. 
“it’s… it’s okay. i’m fine. i should be used to it by now, but i’m just so, so tired all of the time. i feel like everybody on this planet just wants to use me,” you sob. “everybody besides chaeyoung a-and now, maybe, you,” you admit, grabbing one of the hands that holds your cheek. he feels like he’s been electrocuted as your words resonate in his heart. he is using you. he is planning on throwing you away at his earliest convenience once he’s done with you. 
but he’s increasingly unsure if he wants to do that, anymore. with every day that you spend together, he finds himself wanting to soak up every part of you. he wants to know everything about you. your likes and dislikes, what makes you tick and what makes you smile, and, now, what makes you feel so sad all of the time. he wants to be the one who takes away all of your exhaustion. he wants to be the shoulder you can cry on. he realizes that he never wants to see you sad ever again, and, more than that, he realizes that he’s felt this way for a while. when he began to genuinely care about you, he doesn’t know for sure, but it may have been the moment you told him how to win chaeyoung over as if you never expected anyone to be kind to you for good reasons. he realizes that he’s wanted to prove you wrong and that you’re worth giving a fuck about ever since then. 
“sorry if that’s too much,” you say in lieu of his pensive silence, pulling away from his touch, but he pulls you into a tight hug before you can fully separate yourself from him. 
“don’t be sorry. i want to hear about these things, if it makes you feel better. i want my girlfriend to trust me,” he says softly. 
“your girlfriend?” you ask incredulously. 
“well, yeah? i mean, if you want to be, of course,” he says sheepishly. 
“of course i do!” you say excitedly. you throw your arms around his neck and pull him into a sweet kiss. your lips are soft and so, so warm. warmer than anything he’s ever felt before.
-
it’s a mere month before graduation, and you and beomgyu have been together for a few months now. every day is blissful. he convinces you to relax, and his mere presence is enough to soothe your nerves. the exhaustion that previously hung around you like a curse is pretty much gone and a spark of life has finally entered your countenance. he feels proud when he thinks that he helped put it there.
every time you’re overwhelmed at work, he seems to notice before you do, and he always stops by with a meal because he already knows you forget to eat when you’re stressed. by the same token, you reciprocate this sentiment by showing up to his apartment and helping him through some of his harder coursework with no complaint, even though your workload is considerably heavier. he resists, at first, but you insist on helping as much as you can and you tell him it makes you happy just to help him a fraction of how he’s helped you. 
you don’t realize that you’ve helped him just as much. you’ve made him into a better person, unconsciously or not. you’re so considerate of his feelings and always make him feel important no matter how busy you are. he’s never felt this way about anyone or anything before, but he’s so grateful you’ve shown him how much love has to offer. love. he never expected to find it in such an unconventional way, but he knows it when he feels it. 
-
heeseung, for his part, is pretty satisfied. after months of chasing, chaeyoung has finally agreed to go on a date with him. he has promised her a picnic and a night of stargazing, which she happily agreed to. when she tells you about her upcoming date with heeseung, you’re a little surprised. what are the chances that beomgyu’s friend knew what you had suggested to beomgyu when you thought he was interested in chaeyoung? but they’re friends. best friends, even. it’s not shocking to think that if heeseung expressed interest in dating chaeyoung, that beomgyu would share what he knows. you snuff the light of suspicion out with a vengeance. hasn’t beomgyu shown you how much he really cares about you? how could you doubt him like that? you’re a bad girlfriend for even entertaining that thought.
-
it’s another dreary day in the library for beomgyu. he just wishes you weren’t working so you could hang at his apartment and make out, but he knows you’re swamped with work these days, so it’s all just a fantasy. that doesn’t keep him from indulging in it, though. when heeseung pulls up a chair next to him, he audibly groans.
“what’s with the attitude?” heeseung playfully chastises. beomgyu doesn’t need to rely on his almost preternatural intuition to know that heeseung is over the moon right now.
“oh, i know. you’re thinking about your little girlfriend, aren’t you?” he teases. 
“so what if i am?” beomgyu snaps, a little too defensively.
“hey, man, i’m just kidding. you’ve done a great job on bagging her for me. my date with chaeyoung went great, by the way. thanks for asking.” beomgyu just rolls his eyes at heeseung’s obnoxiousness, which, if he recalls correctly, was one of chaeyoung’s turn-offs. 
“i’m glad it went well,” beomgyu says sarcastically, devoid of any sincerity.
“for paying your half of the rent for months, it better have! it was worth it, though. so, so worth it.” 
“what the fuck are you talking about?” a sudden voice cuts in from out of the blue. chaeyoung. oh no. 
“n-nothing,” heeseung says hastily, looking like a deer in headlights. beomgyu can only stare with widened eyes — too shocked to do anything else.
“bullshit. you said you paid his rent because he ‘bagged her’ for you. were you talking about who i think you’re talking about?” heeseung rushes to deny it, but she turns her hardened gaze to beomgyu.
“were you fucking talking about who i think you’re talking about?” chaeyoung repeats through gritted teeth. beomgyu feels his heart sinking to his stomach. his whole world has come crashing down around him and he feels like he could just die from the shame. he wishes he could deny it, but her eyes are teeming with a sense of knowing. 
“y-yes,” he says softly while breaking eye contact with her and looking at his hands, which he didn’t even know he was wringing. a sudden burst of pain on his cheek tears his gaze away from them, though, as chaeyoung slaps him square across the face.
“you’re a piece of shit, you know that? she trusted you, and you know how hard it is for her to do that. you’re fucking filthy,” she says in rage and disgust. the librarian has now come to investigate the disturbance, but chaeyoung quickly says she’s already on her way out. before she goes, though, she sends one last damning look at beomgyu and leaves her parting words. 
“just you fucking wait until i tell her about this, you son of a bitch.” 
-
beomgyu is anxious beyond words. he doesn’t know if he should call you, text you, or show up to your apartment groveling on his knees. he doesn’t have the time to do any of it, however, before he sees a text from you saying that you’re coming over. 
when you arrive, that same old tired look you always had before meeting him is there, and it has increased exponentially. gone is the vigor you two had fought so hard to restore. oh no.
he tries to greet you, but you just hold a hand up to stop him in his tracks. you take a seat on the couch and look so tense you could explode at any moment.
“chae already told me, but i want… i need to hear it from you. is it true?” you ask shakily. 
“baby, listen, i was—” 
“is. it. true?” you repeat impatiently. 
“... yes, but i—” 
“i see,” you say with a solemn nod and a tight-lipped smile. his mouth feels dry as he waits for you to elaborate, but after a long, long silence, he realizes that’s all you have to say in the face of his deceit. he wishes you would cry, or be angry and yell at him for lying to you. it’s infinitely worse, somehow, to see you accepting it as if it was a matter of course. and, to you, it is. of course he wouldn’t like you — let alone love you. of course it was all a sick, cosmic joke. that’s what you are. this is what you deserve, and you’re an idiot for expecting anything different from him or anyone else.
“well, i guess you’ve won the bet,” you sigh, rising from your seat and smoothing down your skirt. “congratulations.” 
his eyes are watery now, but you perceive it as the reaction of a child getting caught doing something he knew was wrong in the first place. you have accepted things with the type of resignation only a truly defeated person would have, and it breaks him more than he ever supposed anything could.
“don’t be sad,” you can’t help but add when you notice his upper lip trembling. “you can smile; i know you want to. now you won’t have to deal with me anymore. i’m sorry for wasting your time.” your words snatch him out of his entranced state and he’s rushing to get his next thoughts out with a desperation he can only describe as primal. 
“n-no, that’s not it at all! and don't be sorry! i… i’m the one who’s sorry. i’m so sorry. i didn’t mean —” 
“it’s okay,” you cut in with a knowing smile, which shatters the last remnants of his heart. “i understand. i really, really do. i know you’re not a bad person. it’s my fault for taking this whole thing too seriously.” your smile is still there, but it has twisted into something truly ironic and teeming with disgust. not toward him, he realizes, but toward yourself. “i should’ve known better.” 
he’s rendered speechless once again, but you don’t give him a chance to collect his thoughts before walking away, closing the door lightly behind you. what words can he say to you to undo what he’s done? he wishes he could dig out his heart so you’d understand his true intentions. they were ill at first, yes, but they’ve evolved into something different entirely. something so sincere and pure he doesn’t dare to show it to anyone other than you. and you’re so calm about this entire situation, it’s driving him mad. how could you think so lowly of yourself as to see this coming? how could you think his actions were anything less than appalling and cruel? and, oh god, what has he done?
-
you’re okay. you really, really are. living in the aftermath of what you had foolishly believed was love is painful, to say the very least, but there are worse things, after all. what those things could be, you can’t seem to think of at the moment, but you know they exist even if you don’t have the energy to ponder them at present. chaeyoung, as expected, is more loving than ever. she rarely leaves your side these days. she’s always been clingy, but there is a level of doting and care she reaches without complaint on her part. beomgyu, to his credit, has seemingly taken the hint and fucked off. he doesn’t show up to your shared class and you took the liberty of blocking him on everything you could possibly think of. even it he hadn’t gotten the memo, chaeyoung is by your side like a rabid dog and she will gladly bite if he approaches. you’re grateful for that, you guess. him essentially cutting himself out of your life has made pretending like he never existed much easier. there are still traces of him, though, and they haunt you viciously. 
-
there’s a party celebrating your impending graduation, and you would rather die than go, to be honest, but chaeyoung makes such a convincing argument that you can’t help but relent after hearing her drone on and on about how you deserve to have fun and let loose since your college years are ending and you have yet to fully put yourself out there in terms of student life. you will, in all likelihood (and with any hope), never see most of these people again, so will it kill you to just let go for once? on top of that, it will be a welcome distraction from your downward spiral that inevitably comes when you think of beomgyu. 
you don’t really know what you’re doing when it comes to dressing up besides the basics, but chaeyoung knows more than her fair share and is all too willing to doll you up in a way you previously thought was impossible. after her flitting hands while doing your makeup and careful choices in wardrobe, you barely recognize yourself. for once, you feel good. you feel confident. you even almost feel worthy of standing alongside a drop-dead gorgeous girl such as your best friend, so when you enter the door of the house party, you don’t feel as small as can be under the scrutinizing gazes of all the usual party goers. one familiar pair of eyes watches you in awe, though, even if you don’t notice. you’re much too engrossed in the atmosphere of pure fun to recognize anything else.
you’re not really one for dancing — far too awkward and uncoordinated to really try it — so you sit as comfortably as you can on the decidedly uncomfortable couch and sip on what must be your third drink this evening. you’re smiling in contentment at the sight of chaeyoung dancing with her new crush. if you can't be happy, you’ll be satisfied with her happiness, instead. this is how it should be, you think. this is how it always should’ve been. 
you’re so stuck in your thoughts you don’t even turn your head at the feeling of the couch sinking as a boy sits next to you. that is, until he clears his throat and you’re snapping your eyes up to meet his.
“i’m taehyun. i’ve never seen you around before,” he casually remarks. he’s really beautiful, like, fresh off the runway beautiful. you almost wonder if he’s talking to somebody else for a second, but his expectant eye contact with you tells you otherwise. you shyly introduce yourself and mumble something about parties not particularly being your scene.
“really?” he smiles. “that’s a shame. i wish i’d seen you before tonight.” you can’t help but blush. “i’d like to get to know you, if that’s alright.” you’re not so stupid as to fall for a man with honeyed words, at least not again, but you find yourself caring less and less about the repercussions as your head feels foggier and foggier. so what if this is a sick joke? you’re almost out of this hellish purgatory you call school life, anyway. even if taehyun doesn’t end up liking you, what’s the harm in indulging in a little fun while you can? you’re not going to put your heart on the line again — you’re too jaded for that — but maybe you can enjoy his company for what it is, no matter how fleeting it may be. so before you can think any better of it, you agree. 
or, at least, you try to, but your sentiment is cut short with a sharp tugging of your arm.
“beomgyu, what are you doing?” you hiss as he leads you to an unfortunate-smelling bathroom.
“i-i need to talk to you,” he replies sheepishly. 
“what’s there to talk about?” you ask with a sigh. “i’m not mad at you. i forgive you. so what else do you want from me?” you actually seem a little annoyed, which he has never seen before from you. it causes him to sputter and almost lose his train of thought.
“you know what i want to talk about…” he says meekly. 
“oh? the fact that you dated me and said you loved me because of a bet?” you can't help the bitterness that laces its way around the edges of your words.
“yes, it was for a bet, but then it wasn’t about that,  anymore. i really did fall for you. i… i love you.” 
“i don't believe you.”
“b-but i mean it! how can i make you trust me?” his voice is overrun with desperation, but you quirk your eyebrow at his words.
“you can't make me do anything. i don't know what you're getting out of this, maybe some sick satisfaction that you can pick me back up again at your leisure? maybe you just feel bad for me? whatever it is, i don't care anymore.”
“no! listen to me, i really do care about you! i know i hurt you, but let me be there for you. i… i'll prove to you how much i care. how much i love you.” you're quiet for a long, long time. an excruciatingly long time. you seem to consider every syllable he just uttered, but you don’t seem fazed by his sincere words at all, and he worries he's losing you for good. before he can stop himself, he gently cups your face in his hands and tenderly runs the pads of his thumbs across your cheeks. you don't push him away and, for that, he’s grateful.
“alright. alright, i do believe you. i believe you love and care about me,” you admit with a sigh. he lets out a shaky breath he didn’t even know he was holding in before he presses his forehead against yours. thank god you believe him. maybe you don’t trust him yet, but he’ll do everything in his power to earn it back.
“i believe you, but it’s not enough,” you say resolutely, grabbing his hands and prying them off of you. his heart sinks and he can’t help but feel the sting of tears in his eyes.
“i forgive you, i really, really do, but you can't treat people however you want and expect things to go back to the way they were just because you’re sorry. i can’t… i won’t accept that.” he winces and he makes no move to stop his tears from falling now, but he bites his lip to stop the whimpers.
“you know me. you know how hard it is for me to… to believe that i’m worth loving.” he flinches at your self-deprecating words and he wishes he could kiss your face and erase any doubts of your worthiness. you are the most lovable person in the world to him. he wants to shake you and demand that you see it, but what right does he have to do so? instead, all he can do is shake his head furiously in denial of your sentiments.
“and everything you said, everything you did, just makes me believe that i’m right about myself. even if you mean it now, i can't get over the fact that it was all a lie from the start. if you love and care about me like you say you do, don’t you think i deserve better than that? better than having to be reminded that the person i love the most in this world only chose me because he wanted to get his rent paid?”
“i’m… i’m so sorry,” he repeats with a whine. “i wish i could go back in time and redo everything.”
“but you can’t,” you say softly, and he whines again, like an animal. 
“i promise… i promise that i really love you, okay? and i’ll wait for as long as i have to for you to see that,” he says between sobs. you can’t help but feel sorry for him. you’ve seen beomgyu cry from stress, but never from the pure, unadulterated amount of pain he’s feeling as of now. you almost want to acquiesce and let him have his way, but you can’t do that. you don’t have much dignity to speak of, but even you can’t tolerate a betrayal this sizable. maybe, before you met him, you would have, but ironically enough, his presence has taught you that you should never compromise yourself like that for anyone. not even for the one you love the most.
“thank you, beomie,” you say softly, “but i don’t want you to wait for me. i want you to be happy, okay?” you ask as you stand on your tiptoes and press a goodbye kiss to his forehead. “and i’ll try to be happy, too.” without waiting for an answer, you leave the bathroom and shut the door behind you. 
“i don’t want to be happy if it’s not with you,” he mumbles bitterly, but you’re too far away to hear it.
notes pt. 2: is this cheesy? YES. do i care? ONLY A LITTLE BIT. anyway like i said lmk if u want a part two <3
taglist: @my313 @superbbananananana @zzhyuu @lonelybutterflytae @cherrycolaberry @defnotleee @midwinterblizzard
*if you would like to be added to my permanent taglist or my taglist for the (maybe) upcoming next part, lmk!
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fairene · 3 months
Text
good for you / ln4, part one
lando norris x fem!reader
no use of y/n, as always.
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in which you and lando have parted ways, but on what terms? at what cost is he willing to get you back, and how far down are you finished with him? what lengths with the two of you go, battling with your hearts, before you can be together once more? he knows that no one is good for you, except him.
a/n⋯ a collaborative piece between myself and the lovely @jamminvroomvroom. she will be writing the next chapter, so keep your eyes out! we don't have a total idea of how long this'll be, but we are so thrilled to have it ready for you all. jas is an amazing writer, and i am so, so lucky that she wanted to do this with me. shower her with all the love, and i hope you enjoy this. as usual, reader's clothes are left up to interpretation. this is for you afterall;)!
warnings⋯ smut, MINORS DNI 18++. language, drinking, choking, p in v sex (wrap before you tap!), insecurity, arguments, exes to lovers(?(we shall see!)) possession, jealousy. if i forgot any warnings, feel free to let me know.
wc⋯ 5.2k (unedited.)
the night began well. the boy you were with was well. you were well. that was the most important thing, wasn’t it? it must be. it had to be, you convinced yourself of that very fact. truly, you had no reason to complain. your friends supported you, loved you, were obsessed with you. and you had a man on your arm who felt the exact same way, and would kiss the ground you walked on.
but others, another, would worship you. used to. but now you were alone, a goddess left untouched, brazen in this world of antagonists. yet, it was a change. it was a change that you needed. this relationship you had with damian was one of new blood. a shift from your tumultuous routine that felt liberating over a life you once mourned. 
damian was a man of respectful nature, good upbringings, and he was a good chat. he was fit, treated you with a sweet tenderness that you adored him for, and didn’t devolve into a flaming lair of toxicity to keep you trapped. 
and, he was a football player, which was a bonus. he played for barcelona’s team, and you couldn’t be more proud of him. after your previous relationship concluded, the pair of you were introduced by mutual friends, namely the ferrari driver, carlos. you were apathetic at first, unsure of if this was the right move. if it was too soon to want to jump into something. 
but damian was kind. he adored you. what else did you want? 
more. 
you danced with him. in the night life of monaco, you were showered with his attention. the attention of your friends. it was a weekend off for the drivers, so you were able to meet up with the other girls you knew. kika and alexandra in particular, who’ve been entirely supportive of you these past few months. 
they danced with one another, cheering you and your now boyfriend on, shouting pleasantries of how good you looked at his side. 
damian’s hands around your hips felt good. it felt right. when the bass dropped, so did you. he caught your seductive actions and his eyes widened. there were no words to describe his expression besides admiration. you loved his eyes the most about him— his dark hair, tanned skin, muscular physique— 
shit,
maybe you did have a type.
you spun back around, latching your arms around his neck, and he cradled your lower back with his palms. “what?” you questioned his stare that was unrelenting. 
“nothin’,” he scoffed. “you’re just absolutely beautiful, innit?” 
your head fell back with a laugh, patting his chest as a means to quiet him, but he kept going. 
“‘m serious,” your name was low on his tongue. “you’re practically glowin’, love.” 
you peppered a kiss on his lips. he met you halfway, swallowing your mouth whole. his tongue entered your mouth, and you could only respond with a noise deep within your throat. he felt the vibration against his lips, and continued his movements. 
the pair of you were swaying against each other’s bodies, tongue down one another’s throats, and for a moment the world washed away. something that hasn’t happened in ages, you felt like a makeshift paradise was born between the both of you. a hideaway. 
but mirages only serve their purpose for a short time before they fade away into nothingness. 
you broke away from his kiss. he looked surprised, offended, but you said nothing of his expression. you brought your lips to his ear for a brief kiss, “i’ll get us drinks?” 
he nodded, letting you go. 
you brushed past him, trailing your hand up kika’s arm. she immediately spun towards you, alexandra’s attention drawing as well. they beamed when they saw you, following you right over to the bar. the triad of you loitered there, swirling the drinks you ordered in hand. 
“so?” kika asked you, as if she’s been dying to hear this story the whole night. alexandra glowered at her, pestering her to be quiet, but you’d answer her regardless.
“it’s good.” 
the girls looked at one another. 
“that’s it? good?” kika looked baffled. 
“what? what else do you wanna know?” you took a sip of your drink, feet hanging from the barstool that you were sat upon. 
“anything!” alexandra exclaimed. “haven’t seen you this happy in months.” kika made a face at her, telltale of not to bring up what happened. ah, you thought, what happened. none of you discussed in great details of what happened that night, but they knew it was intense. intense enough for you to lock yourself away for a week with no contact. it was a horrid sight, and they were terrified for you. 
“well,” you shrugged. “i am. really. damian’s a great guy.” 
the girls squealed, grabbing your free hand. “he seems lovely, doesn’t he? ugh! you look so good together, too!” kika was more excited than you expected her to be, but her support meant the world. along with alexandra’s approval, you felt like you were taking the great steps that were needed to…move on. a dreadful phrase that has been bouncing back and forth in your mind. 
“you really do. and he’s an excellent photographer. i mean, look at these pictures he took of you—” alexandra passed you her phone, damian’s instagram story open. it was of you, looking divine beneath the yellow-hues of the club. you’d give him credit where credit is due— you looked fantastic. 
your hand flew to your mouth, covering your smile. that only had the girls squealing out more, finding your bashful attitude enough to answer their wearisome concerns. they were so worried about your state after the breakup that they would hound you. would stay as invested as they could in your life, until they were rather annoying. but you were grateful for them nonetheless. without them, you would’ve never met damian. without them, you may not have ever found happiness. however temporary it may be, it was what you felt at the moment. 
when damian’s drink arrived in front of you, you swung off the stool and bid them a sweet goodbye with a kiss in your palm, blowing it in your direction. you sashayed through the crowd, slithering through the stalks of grass, and made your way into his arms. he reacted instantaneously, holding you close to his chest. his chin rubbed against your shoulder, clean-shaven, and whispered to you.
“thought you ran away on me.” he said with a hushed tone. you swiveled to hand him his drink, which he took, but not before pressing a kiss to the palm of your hand. 
“me?” you made a ‘pfft’ motion with your lips. “never.” 
but oh,
how right he was. 
damian let out a soft laugh before the two of you made a ‘cheers’ motion with your glasses, and danced the rest of the night away. it was a beautiful evening, truly, and you shouldn’t be feeling the way you were. devoid. 
you pushed down the feeling as much as you could. 
when you and damian left the club that night, you were happy. glittering with the sparkles of what young love was meant to be. you’d only been dating for two months, but it had you on the edge of your seat. fantasizing about what a life you could have with him. 
but some things just stay fantasies, don’t they?
“you sure you’ll be alright?” damian asked you when you unlocked the door to your flat. you hummed with appreciation, feeling the buzz of alcohol through your system. 
“i’m sure, my knight.” you said with dramatics. he smiled, appreciating your small antics. they kept him on his toes. 
“whatever you say, babe.” he shook his head, holding the door open for you. you stepped inside, gripping the wood, and turned to face him.
you kissed him once good night on the lips, “i’ll text you in the morning.” he nodded against your lips, unwilling to let go, but did when you laughed against him. he was sweet. a sweet, sweet boy.\
“goodnight.” you cooed. he returned the phrase, and you shut your door and locked it. 
now alone in your apartment, you threw your bag to the empty countertop and sauntered over to your room. fuck taking a shower tonight, you were just too tired for all of that. you stripped of your dress and threw on an old tee shirt that you had, unknowing of its origins, and laid in your bed.
on your phone you scrolled briefly on instagram, but froze on a singular post.
it was a suggested post. you were instantly gripped. the man draped over this girls body was instantly recognizable. his tanned skin. the stubble on his chin. the curls atop his head. the curls that you used to be obsessed with, running your fingers along his scalp.
you stared at the description:
paradise!
paradise. you scoffed to yourself. 
tagged in the photo was the man himself. you clicked on his profile, curious, though you promised yourself you wouldn’t. once wouldn’t hurt, would it? too late, anyways, as you were down the rabbit hole of his feed. 
the first post was a feature of him at his races. then, the second slide was a picture of him and her. what was this feeling? how could you find the audacity to let your stomach churn, your heart race? it wasn’t your place anymore. your place, albeit fought for, was not at his side. 
he looked happy.
but so were you.
you were.
you are.
but the suggested post of his new girl had you hooked. it had you seething. biting your thumb nail with your front teeth, you made an impulsive decision.
you liked the post. 
the night was just beginning for lando when you were in your bed. in the club with his mates, he was bumping to the rap mixes they played on the speakers. drenched in the mix of sweat and alcohol, he was living the life he dreamed of having. it was everything to him, picture perfect that no one could argue. 
but there was something missing.
the girl at his front, his girlfriend, grinded against him with radical intentions. she was beautiful, of course, but that was all the words that lando had for her. she accessorized well, was in the media spotlight, and that’s all the boxes it took for him to swoop her off her feet. it was easy, truthfully, and their relationship has been a breeze.
but lando didn’t want a breeze, he wanted a storm. you were the eye of the hurricane that he yearned for. nothing about that has changed– and he feared, deeply, that nothing will ever turn his head. he’d been fixated on you since he laid eyes on you, your attitude. you kept him on his toes, not laid down and bored. 
the girl, samantha, spun around to wrap her arms around lando’s neck. his hand traveled to her lower back, holding her close to him. she shouted and cheered with her girlfriends, lando’s own doing the same. but he said nothing, and brought his cocktail to his lips, gurgling a deep swallow of the bitter liquid that heated his throat. 
with his bloodshot eyes and weary smiles, he’d attempt to be picturesque for the media. media, media, media. everything returned to the circulation of photos that’d come out with him and his girlfriend. girlfriends. you. he’d never felt so protective of you, of anyone, than the relationship that you had with him.  nothing could compare, especially how samantha boasted in every post that he was with her. 
her following count jumped well over five hundred thousand since he came in the picture. of course she never said anything, made it a point to speak about, but he knew. lando watched. scrolled endlessly through his phone in the middle of night, drinking up every word that his fan spewed out. a folly of comments asking where you were. what happened between the two of you. but he never made a post about it. it had been radio silence on his end, just as it was the same for you.
but it’d end with him throwing his phone to the side, and promising himself that he didn’t care. he couldn’t care. not when you weren’t his anymore, and that you walked out on him that night with valid purpose. he failed you, and that was on him.
in the meantime of your absence, samantha was there to fill the gaps. to soothe his broken heart with her painfully long acrylics that dug into the back of his neck, her pathetic moans of pleasure when he fucked her better than anyone ever could, and the rocking of his hips against her own in the darkness of the night club. 
for now, it was enough. just barely, as it scraped the surface, but lando would down cup after cup to glue the pieces of his heart that you shattered. 
samantha continued her movements. lando didn’t relent either, finishing off his drink, slapping his palm against her ass. the crowd around them erupted in cheers, and lando plastered a bolstered smile across his face. this is what they wanted. the surface level teasing, the sultry nature of grotesque actions. but it is not what he wanted. he craved the solitude, the comfort you brought him in the hours of the night before his races. he’d been a phantom crawling through this season, a ghost in the shell of a formula one driver. 
“you alright?” samantha asked him. apparently he hadn’t been good at hiding the turmoil from his expressive face. her puckered lips had his eyes shifting downward. her bare chest, barely covered tits. 
he’d say nothing in response and simply go in for a kiss. a deep one, aggressive, filling her mouth to the brim with his tongue. maybe this could erase the memories of you, however stubborn they were on placating in his mind as permanent fixtures. 
his hand came around the back of her neck, angling her head better for him to swallow her whole. the bracelet, silver imbued with his logo, clanged against her large golden hoops. it was a loud noise that samantha pulled their lips apart. she turned her head to glance at the jewelry, and her lip curled with disgust. 
the bracelet. the bracelet you gave him. 
she scoffed and he could hear it, but he opted to say nothing in rebuttal. instead, she stalked away from him, looming large near the bar. he followed her tail, knowing that this spat between them wouldn’t last long. 
she ordered a drink. lando’s head spun as is. 
samantha pulled out her phone, bringing her drink to her lips, and damn near spit out the liquid. she covered her mouth from it spilling, and lando watched with a raised brow. 
“what?” he asked of her. 
“she liked it.” she. who’s she? who is she?
“what? who?” lando begged for clarification. samantha spun her phone around to shove it in his face. the screen illuminated him beneath the barely visible hues of light, and his eyes nearly popped out of his skill. 
you liked her post with him. 
you who swore you wanted nothing to do with him ever again. you who snapped the chain of the necklace he got from you, though made of the toughest silver, the metal was nothing beneath your furious fingertips. 
lando swallowed, though it did little to stifle his salivating mouth, his racing heart. he clutched the back of the bar with one hand, feeling the world collapse in on him in that moment. a singular like on a photo he didn’t even want to be posted. all it took to have him breaking out into a cold sweat, feeling nausea tug on his stomach, was a like on instagram. 
fucking pathetic, wasn’t he? 
his thumb came to spin the bracelet around his wrist, twirling it in front of him. samantha hadn’t noticed, too hyper focused on your account. she uttered words that he couldn’t make out. things along the lines of, ‘weird,’ ‘she’s obsessed, ‘innshe?’ but they never made sense to his ears. if anything, you were obsessed with staying away. obsessed with anything but him, contrary to his own feelings. he wasn’t even sure if they mattered to you— did they?
in retaliation, he knew only one thing to steady his heart. he took samantha by her wrist to the nearest restroom, a single stall, and banged on the locked door.
she stood there, speechless, but had a feeling how this night would end. it brought a cruel smile to her lips, but she covered it with her phone in hand. she knew this is how she’d get some of the best sex of her life, when he was riled about his ex, brimming with fury. she didn’t care that she was being used as an outlet, for she was using him for the same. 
so she didn’t care.
the man in the bathroom left with a curse but lando didn’t seem to give a fuck. he pulled the girl inside and slammed the door behind him, locking it without a care in the world. against the wall she was pushed, ravished by the company of his lips. he sucked and tugged at her lower lip, becoming so bold as to bite the flesh with his top teeth. she smacked his arm and he relented, knowing damn well that you would’ve been moaning with pleasure. 
his lips left no surface untouched as he trailed down the surface of her body. along her collarbones, her bare chest, but he left no marks. he never did, much to her dismay, as if he were saying that she was never really his. because she wasn’t, his thoughts were rampant. this should be you. 
lando hiked up the fabric around her cunt, scrunching the dress in his hand. his other made work around his pants, shuffling them down so his blistering cock could spring to life. it did, but with the work of you in his memories, and not the girl who was spilling her breasts for him in face. 
he didn’t spend long serenading her with his tongue, though it would be a different story if it was you beneath him. he spared no effort where his lips rejected, the only way he found himself happy would be with your own against his. they were claimed for you and you alone. 
it would be a fair assumption to say that you utterly ruined him. 
his dick slid into her with ease with the help of his spit across his hand. he had slipped a condom on, too, tearing open the packaging and threw it to the ground. samantha’s hands came to wrap around the back of his neck, her claw-like nails digging into his skin. it had him curl his lip, not finding the sensation enjoyable, but he didn’t care. not when you were thundering on his mind. his storm, his sunshine. 
she moaned deeply at the contact, finding her g-spot with no effort whatsoever. she was already a mess beneath him as he solidified a pace, grunting in the wake of his thrusts. 
but he wasn’t thinking of her. ‘course he wasn’t. he was thinking of the first time he had you. you in your light-toned dress, you with your big, sparkling eyes. it would be there, beneath the moonlight of his monaco apartment, that he’d taken you to his bed for the first time. and that was the first time you’d ever came at a man’s touch, and lando wouldn’t forget that he was the first you spilled a name on your tongue. 
how you voice was so iridescently sweet. how it curdled his heart into a bow, tying it off with a kiss. your scent had him stirring with craze, frenzied as he ate you out that first time, and nothing ever compared. your cunt was the nectar of his life, fueling him day to day whilst he could have you. when you were his. now he was a man running on fumes, on the oils you’d left behind in his apartment. there wasn’t much he could spare, but that fucking liked photo seemed to do the trick. 
it’s enough to hold him over for the time being. the pace at which hips were thrusting increased, sporadic. his hand came to clutch the base of her throat, but samantha slapped his hand away. the wall would suffice, but knew you’d beg him to hold you. clutch you with your life in his hands, bestowing him the greatest trust he could ever earn. he’d have you tearing up, whining, mewling with pleasure from his hands alone. now, the sex was black and white, when you were the whole world. ripped away from his clutch, he’d be empty handed. 
she shouted his name, “lando–!” while she came over his cock, tightening around him. he’d groan, forehead flush against the concrete of the wall. 
he was reaching his own. those photos of you on your instagram. the feed of your soft launch with that fucking football player. how your friends posted the pair of you— how you were glowing in every light that caught your face. you were so fucking beautiful, so perfect, that he couldn’t help but cum at the thought of you.
but this time, he made a mistake. 
it had been your name that flew past his lips when he filled the condom to the brim. it was your name that he grunted in her ear. not samantha’s.
she was furious. disgusted. she shimmied out of lando’s hold, tugging her underwear up and her dress down. 
lando knew he fucked up. this wouldn’t be the first time, and ultimately, not the last. 
before she left with tears streaming down her face, she had words. “you’re pathetic,” she spat. “take off that fucking bracelet. you know she won’t want you back.” 
and then she was gone. 
lando was left in the empty stall of the bathroom with his head draped against the wall. his breaths were rampant, coming down from the high of his orgasm, but there was no regret in his mind. there was nothing there except the distress of his memories, the titration of you that fumigated him, held him in a chokehold. 
he fixed his pants, washed his hands, and glanced at himself in the mirror. sweaty, bloodshot, exhausted, he didn’t recognize himself. he didn’t recognize the man that was there; unshaved, overgrown hair, sloppy dress attire. this wasn’t him. he was nothing without you, it seemed, and it would drive him into the fucking ground sooner, rather than later. but he was betting on the latter. 
aggravated, he let out a curse, “fuck.” before he left the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind him. 
when the both of you were in your beds that night, you tossed and turned. a whirlwind of emotions swaddling the both of your beneath the comforters, you kept checking your phone to see if he texted you. you wouldn’t ever say it, but you’d unblocked him a week after you broke up. you wanted to see if he’d chase you. but he didn’t. he didn’t. 
he was on his phone, too, fresh out of the shower. waiting. looming on instagram to see if you’d like any of his posts, but he saw no activity. but he did see that his fans caught wind of your liked post. confusion was stirred, wondering if the pair of you were friends again. he couldn’t help but chuckle at that insinuation, because he was wondering the same fucking thing. 
but when you both put your phones down and settled in for the night, you were consumed by your memories, and so was he. 
you’d dragged him from the event that night back to his flat. when you opened it with the copy of his key he gave to you, you threw your bag on the sofa without a word. you made move to run right to your shared bedroom, but lando wasn’t far behind, and grabbed your elbow. 
“what is it?” he asked, confused, and that only angered you more. 
��you’re serious?” you said, mouth agape. you couldn’t believe he claimed to not have a single clue what he’d done. what this mess had been amounting to for quite some time. 
“clearly, otherwise i wouldn’t be asking,” he said with a bite. “would i?” 
you rolled your eyes, attempting to pull your arm out from his hold. but he didn’t relent. he kept his hands firm on you, keeping you settled. 
“don’t be daft,” you hissed. he simply raised a brow, shrugged his shoulders. “how you treated me.” 
he was still clearly at a loss, free hand coming to rub the back of his neck with a scoff. “and how did i treat you, then?” 
your hands flew up with contempt, finally loosening his grip. “this! like this!” your voice raised. “first you hate to post us, and then you say ‘we’re not that serious’?” 
that night you’d been standing beside lando, keeping him company with his mates, when they popped the question about the sincerity of your relationship together. you’d expect him to answer with a smile, saying that you were very much in love— because he’s told you that numerous times— but he simply batted the question off with a ‘not too serious, innit? here for a good time.’ 
“you know i didn’t mean it that—” 
“oh…! here we fucking go.” you turned your back on him, head falling into your hands. you ran them over your face, “you say that. you always say that. ‘it doesn’t matter,’ ‘they don’t know the truth,’ then why don’t you tell them?” 
he couldn’t believe what you were saying. that you didn’t trust him, didn’t have faith in the words he spoke to you in the peacefulness of your bedroom. 
“we don’t owe them shit,” he spoke your name in a controlled tone, gritting his teeth against one another. 
“and when i get flamed on instagram? twitter? for taking you away from them?” the fanbase that lando acquired was some of the most valiant people you’ve ever witnessed, but could also be the most brutal. 
“you know how they are—” 
“i didn’t sign up for that.” you retorted quick, shouting this time, which had his face going a ghastly white. “i’ve done nothing but love you. cherish you. and you can’t owe me the decency to speak kindly on my name. defend the ‘love of your life,’ — as you’ve so called me before!” 
lando was stunned to silence. 
“and what do you have to say to her now? while i get numerous death threats, how they’ll kill my family, tarnish my work.” you waited for an answer, turning back to him with your hands up. 
he said your name again, stepping closer to you. but you threw your hand up in front of him, halting his steps. 
“no. no. what would you say?” 
lando swallowed the thick, anguished lump in his throat. 
“i’d tell her i was sorry.” he took a step closer, letting your hand rest on his heart as he bumped into it. your lip quivered, finally coming to terms with how emotional you’d gotten. “i’d tell her that she means the world to me, and that i’m the biggest fucking mug she’s ever met.” 
your breath stifled. arm relaxing, he closed the distance. 
you began to believe him. 
“and i’d tell her she’s more than what the internet says.” that had you flickering your eyes up. was he still not going to make a statement? “and that their words are meaningless.” 
you raised a brow at his indecency. 
“threats that they’ll find my parents? dox them, send feds to their house?” you backed away from him. he realized that he fucked up again, and that it could cost him everything. 
“you know that won’t happen—” 
“and if it does?” you were still firm with your statements, however desperate he looked in his eyes. “what then, when i get a call that my parents house was ransacked? what would you do, oh lord of fame?”
he took a step back from you as if your words pierced through the thick flesh of his heart. he didn’t see it that way, didn’t see how you saw it. the words of hate he received online were toilsome, ignorable, but it was different from you. you didn’t ask for any of this, and he knew it more than true that you didn’t deserve it. 
but he made the discovery too late. 
“that’s what i thought.” 
you moved to grab your bag, your phone, brushing past him whilst he was locked in place. his heart was bursting out of the cage of his chest, his mind pushing him forward, but he was terrified. terrified that if the next words he’d say, you’d be gone. 
“don’t fucking call me until you figure your shit out. i’m not playing—” 
you were stopped when you were pulled against lando’s chest. his stubble grazing your shoulder, bringing you a greater comfort than you’d sooner die than admit. you felt his heart against him, racing with a speed greater than his car, and let the tears slip from your eyes.
“stop,” you shook your head, begging him to let you go.
“don’t,” he begged, not even sure what he was truly begging for. “don’t go, baby, don’t leave.” 
but your mind was already made up. though his begging could suffice if the circumstances were different, but he’d already made his mind up, too. he embarrassed you, threw you under the bus, and allowed you to be tormented in the eyes of the media. you knew it wouldn’t be easy, but you also thought he’d defend you. 
yet, you were met with radio silence on his account. 
and nothing but an endless stream of apologies, but no solution. 
“let me go.” you said. metaphorically, physically. your hand went to the necklace around your neck, picking at the chain. 
he shook his head, refusing. 
“lando…” you hissed, trying to weave out of his grip. you finally turned to face him, seeing the tears falling from his eyes. 
you were crying, too. it felt like something was ending, though you didn’t wish it to be true. but you couldn’t let this media abuse continue any further, and needed to protect yourself, your family, when he failed as its guardian. 
“don’t go. please.” he begged, forehead coming to connect with yours. you sucked in a tight breath, wishing to relieve him of his sadness, but your own was overpowering. 
“i have to,” you said, holding back a sob. “i’ll be back once you find a way to fix it.”
it was enough to bring the formula one driver to his knees, falling to the carpeted floor. he shriveled beneath your disappointment, unable to keep himself afloat with your wishes. 
“get up.” you hissed, wiping away the tears from your own face. 
but he didn’t, and laid his head on your stomach, pushing his face into you as hard as he could. you could feel the indent of his nose, his lips. the quivering of his jaw, the shaking sensation of his fingertips as he wrapped around your waist. 
“don’t leave me.” 
to be continued
tags ; @landoslutmeout @basicallyric @mybluesoul1 @toriiez @customsbyjcg-blog @sofs16 @strengthandstay @mybluesoul1 @f1fantasys @cmleitora @idgasb @amalialeclerc @laneyspaulding19 @staurdvst @oreosareara @sideboobrry11 @mortallyblueninja @fionamiller123 @2pagenumb @marvelfangirl04 @brune77e @allabouthappiness @tellybearryyyy @ringdingdingdingx @tillyt04 @danywonderland @rosebud224 @simpfortoomanymen @nataliambc @forcesensitivesoulmate @sweate-r-weathe-r @norlestappen @madszoca @milkandcookhot @fionamiller123 @16f1lc @jwiltsz @plotpal @inevesgf @theonottsbxtch
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pirateprincessblog · 2 months
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18+ nsfw content ahead, approach with caution. if a minor, I ask you to not interact.
🌌𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫.: centuries ago, humans detected a signal from an asteroid with a collision probability of 1-in-1,200. unwilling to gamble with humanity's future, they decided to evacuate. thus, kang yeosang finds himself aboard a spaceship, nestled in a sleeping pod among thousands of other slumbering passengers. the destination appears distant, and everyone remains asleep. just why is the young man awake then? ☄️𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: kang yeosang x f!reader ☄️𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 17.7k ☄️𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: angst, fluff, smut, slowburn, space travelers, space themes, plot twist, smut with plot ☄️𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: masturbation, voyeurism, praise kink, hair pulling, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, fingering, choking, hair pulling, oral (both receiving), multiple orgasms, biting, marking ☄️𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: Interstellar Main Theme (extended version)
🌠𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: swearing, light violence, existential crisis (me lol), depressing themes, mentions of death, slight blo0d (like two drops), mentions of substances 🌠𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: inspired by passengers (2016), i absolutely adore space, i am so in love with it, to the point it scares me how beautiful, enormous and unpredictable it is. i gave my all to this fic, kinda put myself in it, so please do not hesitate to leave a feedback <3 each word means the world to me!
𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐲.
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"calculating remaining travel time... xjlsdja23ky324xii... updated."
"come on, you piece of shit."
"updated estimated time to reach proxima centauri b is nine hundred and twenty eight years, six days and seven minutes."
"fuck!" the man hits the screen with his fist, but the numbers don't budge. "what the fuck?!"
if the man's relatives and friends were awake around him at this moment, they would've been shocked. kang yeosang never swore, nor did he ever strike anyone or anything. him losing his temper is something that only ever happened once, at the entrance of the very ship he stands in. the captain wanted to separate his mother from his family, claiming there is no space for her and that they have reached the traveler limit. she is the last to board, they said, you'll wait for the next one. yeosang stepped down, letting his mother take his space, and said his tearful goodbyes before clearing the way for the captain and the stewards to close the doors.
however, they did not. instead, they waved their hand towards a group of people, keeping the door open for them. yeosang watched with his jaw dropped as a family of five rushed to the doors, dragging their designer luggage, wheels scratching the uneven concrete floor and making the man's ears bleed. blood boils inside his body, and his mother noticed the popped vein on his forehead from the window. before she can make it to the door to stop him, yeosang throws himself at the captain, hate, cussing and violence taking over his body.
once the stewards separated them and his mother's face appeared in front of him, he realized his mistake. the older man seized the woman by her elbow, then shoves her down the silver stairs. the sound of groans and thumps still echo in yeosang's ears, accompanied by the distant rumble of the luggage wheels that had triggered his reaction.
"you want to get on the ship so bad? go!"
he is forced inside the ship, and moved away from the doors so they can close them. through the window, he looks at his tearful and hurt mother through his own blurry eyes, heart ripping apart at the sight. i'll be fine, she keeps mouthing, forcing a smile.
they say the next ship will be ready soon, but after this, how can he trust anyone? besides, the ship could be ready next week, or next year. the danger is inching closer with each day that passes, increasing in speed and destroying everything in its path, until it eventually collides with the green planet, destroying both in the process. if they survive the impact, they will die of starvation. yeosang's heart clenches at the thought. he didn't want his mother to await certain death on this planet. he didn't want her to eat dust and dig for food in the ashes of those who stayed, willingly or forcefully.
but that might just be the price for his actions. yeosang sobs against the window, clawing at it. his lungs hurt, a new realization hitting him with each second that passes and sending him into another fit of wailing. a soft smile on her face is the last thing the man sees before he is pulled away from the window. he recognizes his sister's voice comforting him, even though she is in as much pain as him.
now, yeosang stands before the screen, its numbers blurred by fresh tears of sadness and anger. he walks over to his sleeping pod, eyes examining it and brain struggling to understand what went wrong. he lays inside once again, then closes the glass door. the white sheets are still warm and as uncomfortable as the first time he laid there. nothing changes, no sound is heard, no matter how long he lays there. he isn't stupid, he knows that the buttons on the outer shell need to be pressed in order for him to go into hibernation again. but maybe, just maybe, a miracle happens.
an hour, a nap, and no miracles later, yeosang is awake again. he sighs, chest swelling with sadness and pain once more. not only did he abandon his mother, but he is going to face his end alone too. the blonde man glances at the nearby pods; his sister, grandfather, and a few family friends all peacefully awaiting the end of the long voyage. hundreds of pods are lined up in the room, each person inside it dressed the same, stripped of any makeup, piercings, and earthly clothes, instead dressed in simple white silk sleepwear. from the richest to the poorest, they all share the same fate now; a plain sleeping pod, with no designer marks or gold pleating, barefoot, barefaced, and a desire to keep living. he is so close to them, yet so far. surrounded, but isolated.
until he hears a crash outside the hibernation room.
his bare feet tap against the cold white tiles as he follows the echo of the noise, heart thumping with fear and hope. is he not alone?
yeosang finally exits the hibernation room, eyes failing to catch an empty pod near the exit. he finds himself standing in the middle of what looked like a lobby. the pale colour of the walls hurt his eyes, along with a big number of white led lights scattered on the ceiling. on the first glance, it looked simple. once yeosang's eyes got used to the light, he noticed a great willow tree in the middle of the room. it is surrounded by a few wooden benches, all facing it. a long table follows the curved walls, decorated with plants of all sorts, protected by glass.
he does not speak just yet, instead he further examines the room. all the windows are shut, and yeosang doesn't think to approach one and remove the shade. he continues the path through the door closest to the one of the hibernation room, not knowing what to hope for. is he alone, or is he not? both possibilities are equally terrifying. if yes, what was the noise? if not, what could he expect from the person that was also awake for some reason?
yeosang seems to have entered a tube that served as a hallway, the walls curved and decorated with thin led stripes. yeosang's eyes shine under the lights, like a baby's on their first christmas. the hallway leads him into a somewhat warmer decorated room, soft yellow lights a contrast to the previous strong white ones. he raises an eyebrow as he takes in the space. it looks like a restaurant, with a bar fully stocked. there aren't many tables, all of them made to fit up to four people.
they are simply decorated, with a single electric candle in the middle. the chairs are all neatly tucked in, except one. the man carefully approaches the table, fingers hesitantly grazing the plush backrest. it is a deep green colour, the velvet material soft under yeosang's fingertips. the seat itself has an imprint, and yeosang's heart seems to stop for a moment. he raises his head abruptly, and his eyes lock with another pair.
he steps back, breath caught in his throat. the figure gasps too, eyes widening, before her legs carry her outside the restaurant and into another room. the man stays still, unsure if he should follow. what if it is a trap? for his misbehaviour? what should he do anyway? hide around the ship until the end of his life? could be tricky, but the ship is enormous. with an equally enormous luck, he might just make it.
his eyes catch a few items on the table; an opened book, a marker, cup of brown liquid and a broken necklace. on the floor is a shattered glass, probably the crash he heard. he takes the book in his hands, making sure to remember the page before closing it to view the title. it looks like a steamy romance, and when he goes through a few pages, he has to set it down before his attention shifts to something else.
"good evening, sir. ready to order?"
yeosang jumps, dropping the just acquired blue marker on the table. the voice is robotic, yet the face is human. it is an older man, with wheels instead of feet. his hands look human too, holding a tray with a single glass of water on it. it is when yeosang takes a sip that he realizes just how parched he was. he downs the glass, a few drops escaping and rolling down his chin and neck.
"what are you?" he finally speaks.
"i am a human made robot, created to be at your service during your stay at the ship. would you like to sit and take a look at the menu?"
yeosang sits down on the other chair, curiosity taking over him. shortly after, a thin menu is handed to him. it has a few usual choices, and a few more fancy ones. his stomach grumbles as he reads the ingredients of a certain dish, mouth almost watering when he sees the picture of it on the next page. but he has other things to worry about.
"made for our service, right?"
"indeed, sir."
"then, can you activate my pod again?"
"oh, sorry sir. that is beyond my program."
the blonde haired man sighs, dropping the menu on the table. he intertwines his fingers and rests his elbows on the edge of the table, his chin on top of his hands. he looks at the robot's smiley face, and then scoffs.
"it's just a few buttons."
"i'm sorry sir, but-"
"you're programmed to make dozens of cocktails, but not to press a few buttons?" he raises his voice, annoyed with the situation.
"it is dangerous, sir. i cannot just press any buttons, there is a whole procedure. your pod might implode, and you might endanger other pods, even the ship itself."
"bullshit."
"perhaps the young lady can help."
yeosang follows the robot's gaze, and his eyes lock with those from moments ago again. a female figure stands at the doors where she once disappeared, with no emotion on her face. at first, yeosang thinks that it is another robot. but all of her seems human enough.
"i'll be at the bar if you need me." with that, the robot slides behind the bar, busying himself with cleaning.
the girl approaches, carefully. when she reaches her once abandoned table, she slowly smiles. the look on the man's face makes her smile fade quickly, pure anger written all over his features.
"you." he says through gritted teeth.
"uh... hi. my name is-" she holds her hand out as a greeting, ignoring the sudden hostile demeanor.
"i don't want to know your fucking name."
"w-what?"
yeosang replays the image of the captain pushing him out of the way, only to invite a whole family inside after he said there is no more space left. he saw you, carrying that foolish designer bag over your shoulder, the weight of it pulling your body to the side. he remembers locking eyes with you for a split second, just before he went berserk on the captain. you looked like you hadn't worked a single day in your life, and like your world was only flowers and waterfalls.
"you're holding me accountable for your mom, aren't you?"
"do not talk about my mother."
"you know, before assuming something, you should try thinking a bit harder. how do you-"
"i don't have to- no, i don't want to think harder. you rich bastards waltz in here like it's nothing while us poor people have to scrape every corner of our house for the last penny to get a chance for a ticket." he stands from the chair abruptly, making it fall on the floor and you flinch.
tears gather in your eyes, and you feel frustrated that you cannot control it. why do you always have to cry, no matter the emotion? who cries from anger, for god's sake?
"oh, no no. you do not get to cry. that is my mother that stayed down there, and-"
"you think i just waltzed in here? just like that? you think i didn't pay for my own goddamn ticket? you think they let us in just because of our status and wealth?"
"you paid for your ticket? who told you that, your daddy?"
you stay silent for a moment, before confirming. yeosang laughs sarcastically, offending you even more.
"right." he scoffs.
"you think he would lie to me?"
"did you see the tickets? do you know what they look like? how much they cost? where they're taking us? do you even know where you are going? tell me any of these things, and i'll believe you."
you sit down, staring at the broken necklace. you did not know any of those things. you did ask your father to show you the tickets multiple times, you were excited. but he delayed it, even at the entrance, he didn't have to show it to the captain.
"that's what i thought."
"but... why would they let us board?"
"because your daddy is an important minister. you should try thinking a bit harder." he repeats your sentence from earlier.
you sit still, anger stirring inside of you. anger no longer directed at the gorgeous man, but at your family. your father specifically. the stranger picks up the chair, then sits on it. he sighs, shoving his face in his hands.
"what happened to your pod?" he asks, not yet looking at you.
"i don't know. i suddenly woke up, couldn't breathe, and had to break the glass to get out. next thing i know, it had smoke coming out of it so i pressed a bunch of buttons until the thing shut down completely. what about yours?"
yeosang removed his hands from his face, finally looking at you properly. he feels his ears and cheeks warm up, noticing just how beautiful you are. he looks at your book instead, unable to maintain eye-contact.
"no difficulty with breathing as far as i remember. i woke up like i did on earth every day, and it felt natural too. the lid was open, no smoke or cracks. the digital board seemed normal, the vitals still showing up until i had to rip the cables from my wrists." yeosang looks down on his hands, remembering how gently he yanked those tubes from his flesh. "then i was confused as to why i was the only one awake. i went to the main screen in the hibernation room, might've hit it, and then heard a crash. you, assuming?"
"yeah. i knocked it over while trying to fix the stupid necklace."
yeosang nods, eyeing the necklace that now rests in your fingers. it has a simple butterfly pendant, and yeosang fights the urge to ask if it holds any meaning.
"how long have you been awake?"
"about three weeks."
"it doesn't sound like a lot, but when you're alone, assuming it feels like three months?"
you laugh, "more like three years."
"have you tried sending a message back to earth?"
you frown, remembering all the video and voice messages you have sent the first day you woke up and met your new fate. you abused the poor system, sending a tearful plea for help almost every hour.
"i have."
"and?"
"it takes approximately nineteen years for them to receive it, and more than nineteen for me to receive the reply, depends on the speed we are moving at. in that time, the asteroid is expected to strike. they'll have it worse than i do, so i am at least grateful that i get to live to an old age. hopefully."
silence envelops both of you for a while. he seems to be thinking, eyes squinted and nose scrunched cutely.
"do you think... you can try activating my pod again?"
he sees your smile fade. must be horrible to be all alone, especially knowing that you won't reach the set destination. nine hundred years is a long time after all. barely any human lives past a hundred.
"i can try."
yeosang beams, excitedly standing up. he misses the way your eyes become glossy again, tears threatening to spill any moment. you trail behind him, using the chance to examine him. he is taller than you, with soft blonde hair that falls over his almond eyes, and bright skin. he looks like a prince, more beautiful than any man you've been with or had a crush on. he looks over his shoulder, checking to see if you're following him. his eyes are a warm chestnut brown, and his lips a pretty pink shade. you're jealous of his cheekbones and lashes.
soon enough you stand in front of his hibernation pod, the lid opened and the sheets inviting, no matter how uncomfortable.
"right, then. lay down." you say with a heavy heart.
he wastes no time, laying in the pod with his eyes closed and rolling up his sleeves. you take the discarded tubes, poking the tiny needles back below his wounded flesh and taping them back together. he closes his eyes, and his lips twitch in a smile. you bite the inside of your cheek, wishing for nothing more than for all of this to fail.
you're horrible, yes. but if you have to spend another day alone here, you might just toss yourself out in space without a suit on and die. robots are a good company only for a limited amount of time, before their answers start becoming repetitive and predictable.
"you never told me your name." you mumble, getting ready to close the clear lid.
"yeosang." he says, opening one eye to look at you. "yours?"
"y/n."
"beautiful." he compliments.
"bye, yeosang. i hope a better life awaits you." you say before your voice starts cracking, and a tear escapes your eye.
"bye, y/n." the man says his final words before closing his eyes again and relaxing.
you close the lid, then make sure his vitals are showing on the tiny screen. once everything seems ready, you follow the steps on the screen, pushing the buttons in the right order, until it asks for an authorization code.
"shit."
he seems to hear it, because he opens his eyes to look at you with his eyebrow raised. "what?"
"uh, i'll be right back. i just need the authorization code."
"oh. alright, i hope you find it."
"it should be on the main screen."
after a long time of fooling around on the screen, you do not find the code. if you were to start guessing, you wouldn't know where to start. the keypad offers both numbers and letters, and it could be any combination.
"yeosang?"
"yes?"
"i'm so sorry, but... i couldn't find the code."
yeosang's world shatters once again. it seemed way too easy anyway.
"help me out."
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a week later, you still find the man in the same spot. he sleeps in his hibernation pod, and when he doesn't, he sits on the floor beside it and stares at the ceiling. the glass of water you had brought him last night, just like every other night, was empty beside it. it makes you feel relieved that he drank. you don't want him to die like this. you aren't sure how you would handle that, both emotionally and physically.
"yeosang?"
you call, hoping to convince him to come outside today.
"want a tour of the ship? you haven't seen anything yet. besides, don't you have to piss from all this water?"
"thanks for reminding me. my kidneys will kill me." he groans. "which way?"
you lead him out the hibernation room and into the lobby again, only this time you take a different path. there is a door near the restaurant hallway, and you playfully open it up for him.
"my lord."
he rolls his eyes, not yet in the mood for jokes. you lean your head against the locked door, hearing a soft sniff from inside.
"the sooner you accept it, the better it will be for you. i promise."
"you say it like it's easy."
"it's not. i still cry myself to sleep. but i like to pretend that i own the ship, and that all of those people in those pods are my peasants who are coming to serve me on my new planet."
you hear a faint chuckle, and your heart feels lighter.
"besides, once i show you everything, you'll see just how irrelevant our lives are compared to the whole universe. it's beautiful, yeosang."
"you can see outside?"
"yes. i'll take you to the cockpit, if you promise to have a proper breakfast."
you hear water running, and you assume he is washing his hands. "how do you know it's morning? isn't it always dark out there?"
"funnily enough, my digital watch still works. the battery did not run out yet. currently, it is ten in the morning on earth. i even let you sleep in! how generous of me."
he opens the door, causing you to stumble forward into him. he catches you before your head can hit his chest, and it is then that you realize just how big his hands are. you smile awkwardly, stepping back.
"let's go."
yeosang chooses a simple breakfast; cereal and a banana. you order your usual, the blueberry muffin and chocolate milk having you in a chokehold since the first day you woke up. you feel like a peasant who was allowed into his lord's house, eating like a starved farmer while yeosang eats like a sophisticated prince. he taps the napkin on the corners of his mouth every few moments, doesn't graze the spoon against the bowl and doesn't slurp the milk. you, on the other hand, have made a mess not only on the table, but on your lap and floor as well.
"so, uh..." he trails, moving the emptied bowl aside and reaching for the yellow fruit, "what's the plan?"
"are we talking short term or long term?" you also finish the muffin and set the paper wrap aside.
"let's stick to short for now."
"i thought i'd give you a tour of the ship. find you a room, spare clothes and such. the ship is like a city floating through space. my childhood town didn't have this many things to do."
the man laughs lightly, fidgeting with the banana. he doesn't peel it yet, his thoughts so intense they're almost audible. you call his name, once, twice. he doesn't respond. hesitantly, you reach over to put your hand over his. he ceases his fidgeting, his gaze locking with yours. the whites of his eyes are red and glossy again, and being the sensitive person you are, your eyes start burning too. you let out a shaky sigh, trying your hardest not to break down in front of him. he avoids your gaze again, seeing what he did to you.
"i'm going to sound mean and horrible. i know you might have a spark of hope left, and i want to tell you that you should get rid of it right away. hope will only worsen your pain. there is nothing we can do, yeosang. we can't turn the ship around, we are already years away. we will make it just in time for us to die of old age. we can't wake up any of the crew or loved ones, who would put them to sleep again? one of us would have to stay back again. and if you're thinking of the worst... well, i can't stop you there. i'll try, but the ship is huge. i won't be able to keep up with you if you do decide to take that step."
the blonde man sniffles, wiping his cheeks with the back of his free hand. his other one still subconsciously holds onto yours, thumb lightly caressing your skin and comforting you.
"if you, however, do decide... please let me know. so i can prepare to be alone again." your voice trembles, and tears finally set themselves free.
yeosang squeezes your hand, then put his other one over it and keeping it warm. he just now realizes how hard you also have it. he feels selfish, dumping all his sadness on you and not thinking about your feelings at all. you are a stranger, but if you are going to live on the ship with him, might as well try and make friends with you. otherwise, it would be awkward to coexist together.
"so, the cockpit?"
"woah, take me to dinner first."
as you help ryan, the robot you both named, clean up the table, yeosang takes the time to examine the bar.
"so he makes all the food too?"
"there's a couple machines back there, not humanoid though. enough to know a medium rare steak and fries. you'll need all the protein you can get."
he hums, then gets out of the way so that ryan can get the dishes cleaned. you wait near the table, not rushing him yet. he needs time, as much as you still need it. but one of you needs to be the tough one, or you won't last. as soon as he makes his overthinking face, you are quick to grab his elbow and drag him with you.
"there's more to the ship than the bar and the lobby."
when back in the said lobby, you release his elbow and continue down a different path. the short, tube-like hallway is the same as the one before, this time leading into a different room.
"this is the storage. spare clothes, towels, hygiene supplies and such can be found here. further down, see that door? those are the showers. but there is a shower in each of the vip rooms. you can pick whichever room you want when we get there."
"sounds nice."
you show him the gym and the small terrarium, before continuing through the main door of the lobby. yeosang watches in awe as you take out a silver card from the pocket of your sleepwear top and scan it.
"where did you get that?"
"found it in the hibernation room when i woke up. it was locked in a little glass box, it said something like break in case of emergency. seemed emergency enough for me. sadly, it did not have any codes to operate the pods."
the circular door opens smoothly in a spiral, opening a whole new hallway. this one isn't like the previous ones. it is wide, and it rotates around its axis. and it doesn't have a floor. it is simply a tube. the door closes behind you when you step over threshold, and yeosang flinches.
"uh..."
"trust me. take my hand."
everything yeosang does recently is with hesitation. and you understand him, truly. but at least he has someone to guide him. you had nobody. once his hand slides into yours, you don't give him time to ask anything before jumping inside the tube. his heavy body floats in the air, following after you. you can't help the smile that spreads on your lips when yeosang looks up. his jaw is dropped, and his eyes shine orange under the sunlight.
he is speechless, face pressed against the rotating glass like a child against a store window. you swim over to him, also pressing your nose against the cold glass. he is witnessing the first sunset on a different planet, and his heart flutters at the sight.
"it is..." he starts, but doesn't finish.
"i know. there's no word for it, is there?"
"not really, no. beautiful? glorious? breathtaking? none of it seems enough to describe it. it is... strange. different. scary."
you hum, looking down at the dense clouds of the yellow planet. "our earth is so much more beautiful, though. couldn't live on such a dull planet."
"do you think anyone lives down there?"
you shrug, not having thought about it.
"do you think anyone lives on the planet where we are headed? just how advanced is our science and astronomy? for all we know, we could get crushed by a single step from some giant as soon as we land. then all of this was for nothing."
it is the first time you hear him talk more, and you don't dare interrupt him. he has a lovely voice, a deep tone with a soft lisp. you smile to yourself, wondering if anyone pointed that cute trait out to him.
"i guess it doesn't matter for the two of us anyway. not like we are going to live to see it."
"such a ray of sunshine, aren't you?"
he chuckles, sparing you a single glance before flying off to the other side. the planet is enormous, even with the distance the ship keeps with it. their home star seems tiny, but you know that it is just very far away. it might be stronger and way bigger than the sun you know.
"how fun would it be if a fleet came rushing to the ship and they imprisoned us? made us work for them and all?"
"yeosang!"
almost half an hour later, you had to peel yeosang from the windows that were now full of face and finger prints. he whines, but doesn't have much power over his body like you do. you learned to navigate the zero gravity spaces, while he is just getting used to them. you effortlessly pull him through the tube, taking one last glance at the yellow giant below the ship before landing on a floor again. he doesn't succeed, instead landing on his hands and almost his face. the door closes behind you, and smoke fills the small hallway.
"pressure stabilized. you may proceed."
"thank you!" you yell, skipping towards the new doors.
"they can... hear you?"
"huh? oh, no they can't. that's just the automatic system. but it is a habit of mine, to talk to these machines. i had to speak somehow, or to something, otherwise i would've lost it."
"understandable."
using the card, you open another door. each time you do, you are amazed at the mechanics. everything is very futuristic, and no door opens with a doorknob. they are either sensor or card activated, and they always open unusually. from those that spirally open, to those that slide up or down. you love the noises they make when they do so.
"these are the vip rooms. we still have to figure out how we will use the card, since there is only one and you need it to move around. i can unlock the room you want so you don't have to look for me every time you want to go to your room, but that's all the card can unlock. i'll check with ryan if we can duplicate it for other doors."
"he was incapable of pushing a few buttons, think he can replicate a whole card?"
"doesn't hurt to try. anyway, pick a room!" you hand him the card, motioning to the sensors near the doors. "feel free to check out each one of them."
he wants to take the first one, without exploring the rest. but you pressure him into seeing others, claiming there might be better ones. truth is, you've claimed the best one for yourself. but he doesn't need to know that.
"oh, wow." he breathes out, entering the last room at the far end.
it has a simple white bed, already made with pillows and sheets, a desk and a few shelves above it. it has a door that leads to his own bathroom, and a small dresser. a circular window just above the bed takes yeosang's attention again. he smiles, then turns towards you.
"this one."
"you sure?"
"positive. i'd love to wake up to that view every morning."
"then, it is settled. you have your own bathroom and shower, so you won't have to go out all the way back to the lobby. there's also a minibar, it gets restocked once every two weeks for now. but i found a way to change it. it's just a few drinks and snacks."
he nods, still taking in the room.
"anyways, i'd like to call it a day. the cockpit will have to wait. you should refresh yourself, there is towels in the drawers under the bed and spare clothes in the dresser. it's only sleepwear, but fresh. the dirty clothes go in that bin by the door, it gets automatically dumped in the washing machine in the storage room every morning."
"wow, you've really done some exploring."
"guess i have. have fun. i'll unlock the room, then i'll be right across the hall if you need me."
"thank you, y/n."
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a few days later, a knock wakes you up. you glance at the watch, and seeing that it is three in the morning, you groan.
"yes?"
"are you awake?"
"now i am."
"sorry."
you stay silent, waiting for him to continue. but he doesn't. you hear shuffling outside the door, then footsteps. you roll your eyes before dragging your body out of the comfortable bed. you open the door, only to find him very much awake and dressed in fresh clothes, on his way back to his room.
"what is it?"
"what's the time?" he turns around at your voice.
"three in the morning."
"oh."
you stare at each other in silence for a few moments. you raise an eyebrow, amused with his behaviour. "well?"
"right. i was bored. i don't know what to do. i can't sleep."
"then... go to the gym?"
"i forgot how to get there. is there anything else to do? where did you get that book you were reading?"
"ah, the library"
"there's a library?!"
"um, yes. not many books, though. mostly classics, only a small young adult and fantasy section. a few comics here and there. it is on the other side of the ship, though. want to borrow mine until tomorrow?"
his cheeks flush at the sight of the book, remembering the themes of it. a little reading can't hurt. besides, he hasn't had any activity in a while. not with himself either.
"sure."
"want to hang here while you read? if you start feeling sleepy you can just sleep in that other bed." you offer, gesturing towards the bed across the one you have occupied.
"sure, if you don't mind."
"make yourself comfy. the minibar is still stocked, feel free to take anything."
it doesn't take long for you to jump back into bed, warming it up and scrunching the pillow beneath your head. it is just not high enough. with your head turned towards the window, you can see yeosang's reflection. he sits cutely on the bed, back pressed against the slightly curved wall and knees pressed to his chest. his blonde locks fall over his eyes, and he blows upwards every now and then to remove them. you smile to yourself before dozing off.
the second time you are woken up, it is by soft whimpers coming from behind you. a wave of heat washes over your body, seeing the reflection in the window. yeosang lays on the bed, the book halfway finished but discarded on the floor next to the bed. he bucks his hips into his hand, which is wrapped around his pretty pink cock. the veins on his hands are bulging, like the ones on his cock, and you have to fight every urge in you to not jump on him.
you shiver at his moans, getting louder and more... pathetic. carefully, your hand slides from under the pillow and under the blanket, reaching the heat between your legs. he chokes on his own moans, gasping and whining more as he works his way to an orgasm. your other hand sits on your mouth, stopping any noise from escaping. you don't tease yourself, there is no need. you are wet enough for your fingers to slide inside of you easily, and you immediately start pumping.
light squelching is heard in the small room, and you are not sure if it is him or you. either way, the noises are driving you insane, and you hate that you cannot quicken your pace.
yeosang is a gorgeous man, and you found yourself having a crush on him the moment you saw him. but you never thought of him this way. he was just too sweet and innocent looking. now? seeing his veiny hands work on himself, pretty lips creating noises you didn't know men could make, cheeks flushed and hair sticking to his face and neck, you might just be in trouble.
"fuck-" he whispers, hips becoming sloppier with each thrust.
you use the last few moments of his lack of attention before his orgasm to speed up your fingers, inching yourself closer and closer, until a wave of pleasure washes over you and blurs your vision for a moment. you bite into your hand, legs squeezing shut from the intense pleasure. you did touch yourself occasionally during these few weeks, but nothing was as strong and intense as this. and none of it was because of yeosang.
you realize you missed his orgasm, and can't help but frown. you would've loved to see it. his pretty eyes rolling back, and his breathing getting shallow as he loses himself to pleasure. he has already composed himself while you were still getting down from your high. he stands up, puts the book on the nightstand near your bed, then makes his way back to your bathroom.
by the time he comes back, you are already asleep from exhaustion.
"tell me about yourself." he says the next morning.
"ask away." you respond, already out of breath.
the treadmill was never your friend. yeosang had joined you right after you warmed up, and you were the one blushing this time. every time you look at him, you see his sweaty face from last night. not a sight to complain about, but you could've done without it.
"i don't know. favorite colour? movie? song? are there such things on the ship?"
"there is a selection of songs. a couple from each period, as samples to show if there is anyone where we are going. well, they. and a few movies, i think. also some popular ones from each period. they have game of thrones, too."
"ah, i never watched it."
"really? i started it on the ship. didn't know what else to do. i am not watching the godfather or star wars again. so far it seems good. jon snow is to die for."
yeosang looks at you, confused. "i don't know who that is."
"if you want to watch with me, i'll show you. i haven't shown you the theater yet anyway."
you stop the treadmill, jumping off it and sitting on the floor for a moment. your legs burn, but it is satisfying discomfort. you wait for yeosang to dismount the stationery bicycle, not looking at his bottom whatsoever. not fair how it is better shaped than yours. he is speaking to you, but you are busy admiring his body. he always hides under the loose sleepwear, this is the first time you see him properly. he wears a tight athletic fit, showing off his broad shoulders and thin waist.
"is that okay?"
"what?" you accidentally yell, then slap your hand over your mouth.
he laughs, running his fingers through his damp hair and glancing at you over his shoulder. "i asked if you want to have dinner? i know we usually skip it from lack of moving during the day, but i am going to be here for a while. i'm going to need some food before bed."
"of course. i was thinking the same. any dress code?" you joke.
"i mean, you can dress fancy. why not? who's stopping us?"
"what, are you going to wear, like, a tuxedo or something?"
"i'll figure something out." he gets off the bicycle, sending you a playful wink.
you find yourself blushing under his gaze, but you do not look away. he is just too mesmerizing to look at. where has this man been hiding down on earth?
"need help getting up?"
"uh, i think i might skip the bike. my legs are too shaky. i'll stay on the floor for a while."
"you'll catch a cold. come here."
without a warning, his hands position themselves on your waist, and so effortlessly pick your aching body up. you hold onto his shoulders, flabbergasted. there is no motive, other than being helpful, but you can't help the sudden rush you feel between your legs. imagining him manhandling you, throwing you around as he likes, wrapping his hand around your neck as you struggle to breathe and beg him for more.
"i'll help you." he sets you down on the yoga mat, then gently pushes you to lay down. "you have to warm up more and stretch yourself."
"if i start warming myself up more, i won't have the energy for a proper exercise."
"come on, don't be dramatic. i'll show you now, alright?"
"fine."
you lay back, eyes looking up at the open ceiling. millions of white and yellow dots glimmer all across the dark void. yeosang's hands slide from your waist to your leg, gently rubbing the thigh. he puts light pressure on it, and it only increases the muscle pain. but you trust him, so you let him continue. he does the same to your other thigh, and repeats the process with your calves. he then sets his hands on your ankles, slowly pushing your feet across the mat until your knees are propped up. he doesn't stop there, picking your ankles off the floor and slowly pressing your knees to your chest.
"oh, fuck me." you gasp in pain, shutting your eyes and reaching for something to hold onto.
your fingers can't grasp the tight fabric of the athletic shirt, so you resort for digging your nails into his shoulders. he holds you in that position for a few moments, then slowly releases and straightens your legs out again. then again, and again, until you are sweating with pain.
"you're doing good," he hushes, "just a bit more. you can handle it for me, can't you?"
"i guess, yeah."
"good girl."
before you can respond with anything other than a grunt, yeosang presses your knees against your chest one more time, this time leaning his body against you. his body is firm, and big. he hovers over you, his crotch dangerously close to yours. if you moved just a few inches, you'd be grinding on him. he stays still for a moment, not breaking eye contact as he causes delicious pain, and you can't help but think about other ways he could stretch you.
"does it hurt?" he whispers.
"a little." you respond with an equal quiet voice.
"i'll get you used to it, don't worry."
it doesn't feel like he is talking about the warmup anymore. but you decide not to risk it. he could really mean it in an innocent and helpful manner, and you would be the lust driven fool who has ruined the only friendship you are going to have in your life. you remove your hands from his shoulders, then gently press them against his chest to push him away. he doesn't budge, but takes the message and moves himself. he is so much stronger than he looks, and it drives you crazy. such an angelic face, with such a sculpted body.
"i think i'll finish early today. if i continue, i won't have the strength to even dress for the dinner, let alone reach the restaurant."
"alright, then. eight tonight?"
"sounds good. got your card?"
he retrieves the shiny item from his back pocket and flashes it your way. "right here."
"great. i'll see you tonight, then. with my fancy clothes." you laugh, picking up the items you have scattered around the gym.
"ditto."
you raid the storage room, looking for anything that is not gym clothes or sleepwear. roaming around the ship, you find the luggage room. hundreds of bags, all full to the brim. you're sure they won't mind if you borrow something. not your fault your father made you pack simple childish clothes and only a handful of makeup.
eight o'clock rolls around quickly, and you may or may not be running late. your room is a mess, makeup scattered all over the desk and nightstand, and clothes piling up on the bed. you do not know what you've pulled from what bag. it's not like you'll be alive to hear them confront you anyway. you had heard yeosang's door shut ten minutes ago, and no matter how much you rush, it seems that everything is working against you. your hair was frizzier than ever, and you hated having it any other way than down. tonight, however, you do not wish to look like you just woke up and forgot about the dinner. you resort for a simple hairclip, pulling out a few strands of hair to frame your face. finally, you feel decent enough to leave the room.
yeosang hears the clicking of shoes, then stands up. his jaw drops at the sight, and he almost forgets to talk. he hasn't seen you with your hair up, ever, not in the gym either. you had some sort of a loose braid, but loose and messy enough to look how you normally do your hair. your face is exposed completely, along with your neck. yeosang was never one to gawk at a woman, but the way the deep red colour of the evening gown complimented your skin and the fabric hugged your curves had him stuttering. your lips had a red tint, with a hint of glitter, both matching the dress. the dress sparkles under the lights as you walk over to him, like the stars yeosang looks at all day and night.
"don't you look handsome." you smile.
he wears a loose, slightly see through black shirt, with nothing underneath. your mouth waters at the sight of the outline of his chest and abs. you so desperately want to run your nails down his torso. he also wears black slacks, and polished black shoes. his hair is tamed, falling in soft blonde locks around his face and showing his eyes properly.
"you look... uh-" his gaze roams your body, up and down multiple times. it lingers on your lace up heels, and if you looked at him for just a bit longer, you would see the way he gulped and licked his lips. "you look dashing."
"thank you, yeosang. you're very sweet."
he pulls out the chair for you, and that simple act already gives you butterflies. as you sit and look at the menu, as if it's your first time seeing it, you can't help but think whether this is a date. you fear to ask. two people looking good and sitting down for dinner doesn't always mean a date, right? even when they keep blushing at each other every few moments?
"are those your clothes?" you ask, chewing on the appetizer.
"no, actually. borrowed them from some guy named seonghwa, i think it said on the bag. he has good taste. i might borrow more things from him once in a while. what about you? that dress has to be yours, it looks like it was made for you."
"i borrowed it from some lady. seems that she only took evening gowns with her. from all of this, only the hair clip is mine."
yeosang nods, shoving a bruschetta in his mouth. "you look pweffy wif your hair up."
"what?" you laugh, taking the last appetizer from the sharing plate.
"i said..." he swallows, "you look pretty with your hair up. you should wear it like that more often."
"will do, sir."
two hours of eating, conversing and laughing later, you drag yeosang from his seat to dance. it has to be the prosecco speaking, because you would never ask him such a thing sober. especially because you can't dance.
"there is no music," he stands in front of you, hands resting on your waist.
he is slightly tipsy, but the sober one between the two of you. you wrap your hands around his neck, and call ryan.
"yes, miss?"
"put on some music, please."
"right away, miss. do you wish for anything specific?"
"play something by elvis."
even though you claim you can't dance, your body moves itself to the soft rhythm of the music. you sway your hips and move your feet to match the blonde man. both of you still have hands firmly planted on the others body, and eyes locked with each other. this time, neither of you look away. something about this moment is so beautiful, and so sad. you have each other, but are alone. you try to make the best out of the situation, but both of you are terrified. you have only learned to mask it well so you can keep each other strong.
but tonight, neither of you holds back tears. you let them freely spill, feeling vulnerable in each others arms. you tremble under his touch, afraid to let go. his thumb grazes your cheek, wiping the new tears away and caressing your skin in the process. this time, it is his turn to comfort you. he wraps his arms around you and pulls you into a hug while still swaying to the rhythm of the music. his head rests in the crook of your neck, nose nuzzling against your exposed skin. you have your head buried into his chest, while your hands rest on his back and fingers scrunch the light material of the shirt.
"you smell nice." he compliments softly.
you scoff through tears. "it's a new shampoo."
"macadamia?"
"yeah. was feeling like autumn today."
"i like it. better than my old spice supply."
it feels comforting to silently cry into his chest. after being the one comforting him and staying strong for a long time, it is his turn to cheer you up. he holds your face in his hands, thumbs relentlessly wiping tears away.
"as beautiful as you look even when you cry, i'll have to interrupt with a fun discovery i've made a few days ago."
your cheeks heat up at the compliment. nobody has ever told you anything like that. even at your lowest, he makes you feel pretty.
"a discovery?"
"yeah. i saved it for tonight. come with me." the brown eyed man smiles at you before offering his hand for you to take.
"but slow down, these heels are quite uncomfortable." you accept his warm hand, taking it like you were made for it.
he stays still for a few moments, gaze locked on the black platform heels. a squeal leaves your lips when yeosang takes your body in his hands, carrying you bridal style. you hold onto his neck, and press your head against his shoulder for support.
"wait, the card! i left it on the table."
yeosang makes his way back to the table, then lowers you enough for you to grab the card. you playfully put it between your teeth, then wrap your arms around his neck again. as he walks, you nearly drift off on his shoulder. the soft clicking of his shoes against the floor, his scent, and his occasional humming gives you a sense of serenity. he smells of vanilla and bourbon, and it is a big refreshment from all the ocean breezes and sport rushes. seeing him order the glass of bourbon made your stomach flutter, as you were used to men only ordering beer or a rum-coke. he took small sips of it, a complete opposite to you who finished two glasses before getting to desert. the third one we shall not mention.
you feel him stop, and you open your eyes. you look at a door you've never seen before. looking around, you notice lockers lined up on the wall and a screen hanging in the middle of the room.
"i'll put you down now."
he sits you on the bench under the screen, then crouches in front of you and reaches for the card still nestled between your teeth. you move your head away, sitting on your hands. he scoffs, then reaches again. but you are stubborn. you move your head away once again, causing him to sigh and rest his hands on your knees for support.
"can i have the card please?"
you finally lean in, getting to his eye level. his eyes watch your lips sparkle, just like the card that is stuck between them. the tips of his ears become hot again, and he is glad that his hair is covering them today.
finally getting the hint, the man sighs, playing annoyed. he leans in, hands squeezing your knees, before he takes the other end of the card in his teeth. you almost giggle out loud, not actually expecting him to do that. he takes his sweet time retrieving it, slowly pulling it from your mouth and keeping his gaze locked with yours. you finally let go, accidentally leaving a red lip stain on your side of it.
he then transfers it to his hand, while using his other one to poke your forehead. "you really are something."
"that's right, poke the weak."
"you're going to have to take your heels off for this."
you groan, throwing your head back dramatically. "do i have to?"
"why, too lazy?"
"maybe."
yeosang rolls his eyes, then takes your leg and places it over his lap. his fingers place the card back between his teeth, this time the side with your lipstick on it. something about the whole situation is insanely intimate, and you might beg him to just chain you up on the side of the ship so you don't do anything. he begins untying the laces of the heel, making sure to graze your skin accidentally with his knuckles. you feel his warm breath on your skin, and can't help but squeeze your thighs together. it is only then you realize that he can see up your dress. but he chooses not to.
"you do it so naturally. do you usually take girl's heels off?"
a pinch to your thigh causes you to jump and yelp, and you use your other leg to gently bump his shoulder with the tip of the heel. he doesn't react, only smirking to himself while still looking down and working on the halfway undone lace. you repeat the action, feeling mischievous and set on seeing what he'll do. on the third bump, yeosang grabs your ankle, yanking it forward along with your body and looks up at you.
your legs are now slightly spread, and he can easily look if he wanted to. but he still doesn't. his eyes stay locked with yours, no longer a playful glint in them. his pupils are dilated, causing his eyes to appear darker than usual. a gulp goes down your throat painfully slow, realization hitting you. he might not like this type of teasing and joking, and you might've pushed it too far. after all, he is trying to do a nice thing for you here. he is crouching on the ground for you, for god's sake.
"stay still." he almost growls, voice low and stern.
you nod, your eyes falling down on the leg in his lap. then, you notice the bulge in his pants. he might not be as angry as you thought after all. you stifle a smirk and decide to sit still and make it easier for him.
the man finally takes off one of your heels, and when you want to set your bare foot on the floor, he keeps it still in his lap. the tiles are cold, he says. he works on the other one, taking his sweet time while you admire the room.
you wonder what it is, and where he is taking you. the room gently sways in your eyes, or it might just be you. whatever it is, you trust him.
"feeling better?" he rubs your red and bruised soles. as comforting as it feels, you have to remove them before you drip through your dress and on the bench.
no man was ever this gentle and caring with you. yeosang doesn't even have that kind of relationship with you, and he is already way ahead of all the men you've ever been with. you might've just hit the jackpot with him. spending your life on this ship alone with him doesn't seem like the worst way to live.
"yes, better. thank you, yeosang. you're very sweet. who taught you how to be a gentleman?"
"my sister. that dumbass." he scoffs.
he then proceeds describing how he learned from her horrible boyfriends. they were always selfish, and she always felt alone even when she was in a relationship. she mostly felt used, ignored, and a second choice. yeosang would witness them coming home, doing the deed, then leaving because they had plans with the boys. she cried often, and even though she always slammed the door in yeosang's face whenever he wanted to comfort her, she was grateful that he won't grow up to be like them.
"your sister sounds nice. i've only had asshole brothers."
"well, none of them are in our way now. my sister won't suffer for another nine hundred years, and you won't see your asshole brothers for the rest of your life."
you continue rambling about how strict your father always was, how your mother only listened and rarely ever defended you against his accusations and your brothers' bullying, and how you had to hide every relationship and never got to enjoy them properly. although, now that you think about it, you had the same experience as his sister. you are glad not to be stuck with someone like them.
"now, wear this for me. there's a changing room right there. and don't ask. i promise, it will be worth it."
you feel like a child after coming out of the dressing room, standing up when he tells you, turning around and facing a certain direction. you both wear tight black clothes, and he checks the screen every now and then. once he makes sure that you are wearing the clothes properly, he opens one of the lockers.
"no." your jaw drops in disbelief.
"yes." he says, happily pulling out an astronaut suit.
"yeosang, that- is that safe? i mean, you're not thinking about leaving the ship, are you? this is just dress up, isn't it?" you ramble.
"it is perfectly safe. you told me once to trust you. now, it's your turn to trust me. why do you get to show me the cool stuff around here, but i don't get to do that for you?"
"yes, but... this is outside the ship. it's open space!"
yeosang helps you put the suit on, despite your ranting. you hold onto his shoulders while you put your legs in the boot part of the suit, then your arms until yeosang zips it up. it feels like you already have dozens of layers on you. he stifles a chuckle, and you squint at him.
"what is it?"
"you look like a penguin."
"yeah, well, so do you."
"i know. you just look cute."
he turns around to grab the gloves and helmet, leaving you to blush by yourself while he finishes zipping himself up. he brought back the fear you had forgotten about; fear of the unknown and stranded. at least if something happens, you are not alone.
"head up." you do so, and he connects an oxygen and communication system to the suit, then rolls up the collar of the undersuit so that it protects your neck and head, leaving only your face visible. "good girl."
"you need to stop saying that." you blurt out.
"and you need to stop teasing me every few minutes. there is only so much i can take."
"you're the one to talk! you always-"
"hey." his hand grabs your jaw, turning your head to look at him and stopping your complaining. "behave. or else."
"or else...?" you whisper, the prosecco still pulling the worst in you.
he leans in, noses almost touching and lips close enough to feel his warmth on yours. he looks into your eyes, then down at your lips, still holding your jaw in his hand. "or else i might just have to tame you somehow."
you gulp audibly. he smirks at that, then lets go of you and proceeds to put your helmet on. you feel frustrated. he is playing your game, and he is winning. you are supposed to make him blush and stutter, not the other way around.
"there, all fixed. can you breathe?"
"yes."
"can you hear me?"
"duh."
"through the system, dummy." he laughs, tapping on the wire that connects inside the suit.
"ah, yes. i can."
"good. i hope you don't have to pee."
"don't remind me of that! i had half a bottle of prosecco and am wearing like a hundred layers."
"good. no more pee talk. let's do this."
yeosang slides the card on the door, and enters the small space. when it closes, the space fills with smoke and lots of lights start going off and on.
"pressure stabilized."
"thank you!" he yells, playful smile dancing on his lips.
with a frown, you hit his arm for mocking you. he gently nudges you, as if pushing you away. you both know that if he wanted to, he could've pushed you way harder. and it makes you a little horny.
just in time, yeosang slides the card near the other door, then puts the card safely in the suit pocket and zips it. the round door opens, sliding up and revealing the dark void. instinctively, you grab his hand with two of yours. clinging to him like a sloth, you stand on the edge of the spaceship and look down. it strange that when you step over the threshold, no gravity will pull you down.
"wait!" you stop him before he steps over. "have you done this already?"
"uh... yes? i mean, i didn't go far or stay long. i think i hung for a few seconds from that handle and rushed back in. was scared shitless, honestly."
"you fool!" you hit him again, multiple times.
"ow! hey, what, what?!"
"you went to test it alone? you could've- you could've injured yourself! or worse! something could've gone wrong, and i would be all alone again!"
"you didn't think i'd bring you here before seeing if it's safe, did you? what if only one of us survived, the other would have to live with that guilt until the end of their life." he explains, holding you by your shoulders and gently shaking you as he speaks. "i know we've known each other only for a little over a month now, but i'd never do that to you. we only have each other, and i'd never do anything to leave you alone on this thing. i promise."
"promise?" your bottom lip quivers.
he sighs, closing his eyes and leaning his helmet against yours, as if leaning his forehead. "i promise."
"i believe you."
"good. otherwise, this would be a very bad idea."
with that, he pulls you over the edge, holding onto the handle on the outer surface of the ship. you squeal, legs wiggling in the unknown and arms firmly wrapped around his free one. he holds you close, not yet moving until he is sure that everything looks fine.
"i'll let go now, alright?"
"what if we drift away?"
"we won't, i tied us up to the ship. we can get back whenever we want."
you give yeosang only a few minutes of silence, before bombarding him with questions again. he answers every single one he knows, assuring you that he has everything under control. using the moment when you are focused on something on your space suit, he slowly lets go of the handle. as soon as you feel yourself drifting away, you glue yourself to his side, even going so far to wrap your legs around his.
"y/n, you'll have to let me go. i can't move like this."
"i'm scared."
"you want to go back?"
"no."
"then," he peels you away from himself, instead holding your hand properly in his. "let go."
you now float in the void, holding his hand and admiring the ship from the outside.
"you're looking the wrong way, doll. turn around."
due to the strange and spine-chilling situation you are in, you miss his little nickname directed at you. with his help, you slowly turn your back to the ship, and focus on the newfound space.
"look, down there." he points to the side.
"oh my god!" you exclaim, fear and excitement mixing inside of you. "what is that?!"
it is a bright, giant cloud of shiny dust. it has a light pink hue and a faded purple in the center. 
"it's a nebula." he simply says.
"aren't they more colorful? i mean... that's just looks like a space cloud. it's nothing like the photos they send to us."
"ah, those images are taken with long exposure to capture all the lights, and edited later. our eyes cannot process all of those colours, so they sometimes add them on later."
"oh. well, nevertheless, it is stunning. it looks so glorious. i want to touch it."
"no, y/n, you can't touch the remains of a dead star."
"but why not?" you play along, acting like the spoiled child.
both of you laugh, holding onto each other and staring at the beauty of this frightening place.
"how did they calculate the trajectory? what if they missed some asteroid or something?"
"please don't talk about asteroids while we pathetically hang from a space ship in the void. i beg."
"sorry," you smile sheepishly.
"had enough? want to go back?" he asks, checking on your suit.
"not yet."
"want to go a bit furth-"
a snap interrupts him, coming from the ship. before you can look that way, yeosang pushes you away from him just in time, and you scream. a white object passes between the two of you, close enough to hit you. another snap is heard, then another. you finally look at the ship, right before more objects start flying at you. one of the smaller debris hits you, right in the helmet, sending your body further away. a few moments of silence pass, both you and yeosang going through shock. until you hear slight wheezing, and feel cool air on your face.
one of the boards on the surface on the ship must've come loose and broke into pieces. you gasp, body and soul reaching for the man now far away from you.
"i'm coming!" he man yells, panicked. but the communication starts glitching. it cuts off his words, and soon enough, you can't hear him anymore.
the air becomes harder to breathe, and lack of oxygen could kill you, if fear doesn't do it first. your vision becomes spotty, and yeosang's figure slowly starts blending in with the nebula behind him. you try covering the crack with your hand, and it helps for a short amount of time. you accidentally apply more pressure on it, causing the helmet to further break and wheezing intensify. the system begins to go crazy, sending you signals and urging you to get back on the ship. dozens of beeping noises, red lights and whatnot going off in your suit, yet all you can focus on is yeosang's failed attempts to reach you.
"yeosang..." you call, hoping he might answer.
but he doesn't, instead working with his arms and legs to get to you.
"keep... eyes... open... please..." his voice echoes inside the helmet, broken and mixed with robotic sounds. "take... hand... try... reach..."
"i can't," you breathe out, eyes closing. it is the last thing he hears from you.
"no!"
your vision blackens, and you stop the squirming, instead letting your body in the control of the cosmos. maybe that's how it was supposed to be from the beginning. no escaping doomsday, no ships, no wandering in the void, no claiming other planets. maybe humans were supposed to be the ones with limited knowledge. they weren't meant to go this far. or maybe the human race is simply that insignificant, compared to everything else. just a small, useless percent among the stars. the universe will stand, and continue being terrifyingly beautiful and endless, with or without us.
it feels like the right way to go. a punishment, for escaping your fate and leaving others to die a terrible death.
"i'm sorry, i'm so sorry, god i'm so sorry."
you couldn't have known, yeosang.
"i should've known, i should've stayed inside."
there was no way for you to know, yeosang.
"i should've died the first time i went, so you know not to do that."
don't speak such things, yeosang. maybe it was meant to be this way from the beginning.
"you don't deserve this, i do."
if you knew what i did, you would know that nobody deserves this like i do.
"please don't die on me, please. what do i do without you?"
you'll make it. you'll just have to do what i did. but you'll hate yourself for the rest of your life.
"none of it makes sense without you."
you'll hate yourself every time you look at their face. like i hate myself when i look at you.
"i- i think i love you. i don't think i'll make it without you."
i wish i could say it back without the guilt eating up my heart. i wish i could say all of this out loud to you, and not in my head. and yes, you will make it, yeosang.
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kang yeosang hasn't eaten in days. the restaurant remains empty, as does the gym, and the discovered library, although with a few empty shelves. he sits on the cold floor of the emergency room, books scattered around him and one nestled in his hand.
"it is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife. however little known the feelings or views of such a man may be on his first entering a neighbourhood, this truth is so well fixed in the minds of the surrounding families, that he is considered the rightful property of some one or other of their daughters." he reads, voice raspy and tired.
there is a pile to his right, and a smaller one to his left. he reads from morning to night, even though the stars and moons do not show it. he sits there, reading page after page, all to you who lay on the bed in the middle. he lowers the book after a while, glancing at your sleeping body.
"you know, if you've already read pride & prejudice, i can skip it. now that i think of it, you might've already read everything i read to you these days. sorry. must be torture."
already used to not getting replies from you, he sets the book down with a sigh. he folds the corner of the page, marking where he stopped reading. if you were awake, a poke to his forehead would be guaranteed, if not worse. he laughs, remembering the first time you discovered he did that.
"i'm sorry, are you ill? what the hell are you doing to my books?!"
"first of all, they're not yours. second, it's just a book. and third, to answer your question: i'm folding the corner."
"my lord, i have just lost all my respect for you. please exit my chambers."
"gosh, stop reading game of thrones already. if i get called lord one more time, i'm jumping into the nearest black hole."
"i am the queen of the ship, i do as i wish."
"and what does that make me?"
"you can be my queen hand."
"not your king consort?"
"ha! you wish. your house and blood is no match for mine, yeosang of house kang."
"whatever you say, your grace."
yeosang had forgotten about his own room. he hung out with you all day, and slept in the bed opposite to yours. for the first time in a while, he didn't think about what's outside, and what fate awaits him. he enjoyed the moment, enjoyed making you laugh and pissed. he loved how you could switch from giggly to angry in a split second, only from him tickling you too much.
now? he can tickle you as much as he wants, but you won't budge. you breathe, but you don't show any other signs of consciousness. he has raided every room there is, looking for any medical help in any form. he asked ryan, though he should've known better than that. i am not programmed for that kind of procedure, sir. yeosang already knew that sentence before it was said. it took everything in him to not smack the robot, but he heard your voice in the back of his head, defending the soulless thing.
he stands up, setting the book aside on the pile that is waiting to be read. he approaches the circular table, where he has laid you, stripped you of the heavy spacesuit and only left the first layer of tight clothes, then covered you with a light blanket. he managed to connect a few tubes to your body, following the instructions on the screen above the table. he can now see your vitals, he just doesn't know what to do with it. he relies on the ai, hoping it is right.
"if you do not wake up soon, my queen, i will take your throne," he jokes, tapping a damp cloth on your forehead. "then what will you do?"
he unbuttons his silk sleep shirt and stays in his white tank top, suddenly feeling hot inside the room. he folds it on the table next to your head, and pushes the hair out of your face. the system beeps above his head, showing increased heartrate. he looks down at you, searching for any sign of consciousness other than breathing.
"can you hear me?"
your heartrate goes back to normal, dimming yeosang's hope. he finishes wiping the sweat off your forehead and neck, then gently squeezes your hand before sitting back on the floor and resuming his reading.
when he wakes up, he finds himself in his own room. how he got there, he could not recall. but he left your side, after he promised himself to not do that ever again. almost jumping out of bed, the man dashes down the halls, the shiny card in his hand still holding your lipstick stain as he presses it against the various door sensors. he reaches the emergency room in record time, and his heart almost stops. you aren't there.
the tubes once attached to your body now lie on the floor, and the blanket is neatly folded on the table. his sleep shirt is gone, along with the book he wasn't done reading to you. hands hurriedly rubbing his eyes, yeosang fails to process what happened. he rushes through the rest of the ship, searching every nook and cranny in hopes of seeing your face. even going to the place he has been avoiding for the past few days. the spacesuits and helmets still lay on the floor, forgotten. the cracked one delivers a pang to the blonde man's heart, a painful reminder of his careless acts and their consequences.
hopeless, he reaches one final spot. the cockpit.
he had promised you not to go there without you, and the other way around. both of you were waiting for a perfect opportunity, when both of you are sober and wide awake. that never happened.
yeosang breaks his promise, holding the card to the sensor. the doors slide open, revealing the long awaited cockpit. two tall chairs stand side by side, separated by a narrow control panel. in front of the chairs is a wider and more detailed control panel. and above it all, a panoramic window. the ship is flying through a nebula, its vivid colours taking yeosang aback. bright shades of orange, yellow and blue envelop the ship, reflecting in yeosang's wide eyes. 
"you said that the colours are edited on photos. how dare you lie to your queen?"
the man steps back, recognizing your voice.
"y/n?"
"yes?" one of the chairs turns around, and you sit in it. with a smile on your lips, the lost book in your hand, and his sleep shirt hanging from your body. but all he sees is your face.
he exhales, relief washing over his body like never before. not able to control himself, he rushes towards you, picking you up from the chair and enveloping you in his arms. the book falls to the floor, your arms flying to return the hug. it never felt as right as now.
"gosh, how did you get here by yourself? are you hurt?" he sets you on the floor, cupping your face in his big palms. "are you alright?"
"i'm fine. a little dizzy."
"i thought i lost you."
not able to stop himself, yeosang presses his lips against your forehead. he stays there, inhaling your scent and listening to your breathing. your hands slide down from his neck and find their place on his chest, feeling his heartbeat under your palm. it beats fast, almost matching yours. he pulls away, resting his forehead against yours properly this time, not through a helmet.
"how dare you leave me alone?"
"is that a way to speak to your queen?"
he chuckles at your jokes, even in such moments. he should get used to it by now. his thumbs rub your cheekbones, soothing you and making whatever worry you had left perish. you can't help the tears that prickle your eyes when you look at him. his are as red and glossy, and it takes you over the edge.
you climb on your toes, properly reaching his face. his heart beats faster under your palm, as if threatening to jump out. slowly, and with a bit of hesitation, you press your lips against his. it is a mere two second kiss, before you pull away. you search his face for any emotions; disapproval, disgust, discomfort. yet none of those are present.
he has his eyes shut, still taking in the kiss. you want to pull away, to give him space. but his hands slide down to your waist, pressing your body against his. he leans in again, capturing your lips with his. his kiss is an opposite to yours: confident and sure. he pecks your lips once, twice, again and again, until you finally relax in his arms and let your hands roam his body. fingers finding comfort in his blonde locks, and body pressed firmly against his, you kiss him like it's your last.
his grip intensifies, his fingers buried into your sides as yours gently pull on his hair. he picks you up, only to set you back into the chair you've been sitting in all this time. he easily finds the button to lower the backrest and turn it into a temporary bed, then climbs on it with you. his lips are hungry for yours, and even though you could use a moment of breathing, you do not stop him. allowing yourself another moment of bravery, you gently lick his bottom lip, asking to deepen the kiss. and the man listens. he opens his lips, tongue in search for yours while your hands play with the collar of his tank top on his back. you slide one hand underneath, feeling his hot skin on yours.
gently, yeosang grazes your tongue with his, and you taste salty liquid on his lips. tears fall down both your faces, drops rolling down your cheeks and mixing in your mouths with the kiss. it is emotional, passionate, and intimate in every way. he pulls away for a split second, only to take a breath and look at you.
his chest rises and falls heavily, and his lips are plump and a deep pink. his hair is ruffled, your doing. he already looks breathtaking.
"is that... my sleep shirt?" he finally notices.
"oh, yeah. i was feeling a bit chilly, i borrowed it. want it back?"
"no, you can- oh."
you sit up, enough to let the white silk material slide off your skin and pool on the chair. you had stripped yourself from the tight undergarments yeosang had left you in, instead wearing a white bralette and matching lace panties. from the size of his sleep shirt, he didn't even notice that you weren't wearing the short bottoms you usually do.
the white has never complimented your skin as beautifully as today, right in this moment. yeosang can't help but remove your hair from your chest and neck, letting it fall back and exposing your body to him. you let him, taking your time in examining him as well. he runs his knuckles down your wet cheek, wiping the tears that decorate your face, and continues down your neck. his forefinger takes the lead, caressing your collarbones and making a path between your breasts.
you take his hand, guiding it to the outline of your panties. his breath seems to stop for a moment, but a gentle smile on your lips assures him that everything is alright. he groans, slamming his lips back on yours, this time sloppier and rougher. noses brushing against each other, teeth clashing, and hands hurriedly getting rid of clothes, it is all you've needed all this time.
him, all of him.
a thin layer of sweat coats his body, making his pale skin shine under the lights of the nebula. he peppers kisses along your jawline, down your neck, and settles on your collarbones.
"my queen," he whispers, then runs his tongue along your collarbone.
your fingers play with his damp locks, gently pushing his head towards you and inhaling his scent. he seems to have a fixation on the certain part of your body, because he can't help but mark it with purple spots. you hiss at the sweet pain, and yeosang is quick to lick your fresh wounds, as if apologizing for what he did.
he lingers around the area a bit more, switching between the crook of your neck and the collarbones, until he finally dips his head down to your breasts. a shiver runs down your spine when he cups them, giving them a gentle squeeze before kissing all over them. you tremble under his touch, hips desperately searching his for friction. but he lowers your body back on the chair, limiting your moves.
you forget just how strong he is, and him holding your body in place with a single hand reminds you how much he works on himself, even when his life has completely changed. a gasp escapes your lips as you feel the tip of his hot tongue circling your tense nipple. he catches it between his lips, gently sucking it while his other hand travels down your body. his short nails graze your skin, and you've never felt this sensitive in your life.
he pays attention to every inch of your body, showering it with love and passion, marking your skin as he goes and making you his in every way.
"yeosang-" you choke out, feeling him bite your lower stomach.
"yes?"
"please," you beg, running your nails down his bulk arms and shoulders.
"patience, love. you'll get where you want to. what's the rush? we have our own eternity."
the way he speaks in a hoarse voice has you seeing imaginary stars beside the real ones out the window. he pulls away from your body, just enough to plant a kiss on your damp forehead. he pulls you in for a kiss again, sighs of pleasure leaving both your mouths as you kiss and feel each other. his bare body finally leans against yours completely, and you instinctively spread your legs. his arm hooks under your knee, bending it over and caressing your thigh in the process.
"you're everything i've ever wished for." he whispers between kisses. "i just failed to see it. it took me losing you to understand that."
"yeosang..." his name rolls of your lips so sweetly in a light moan.
"i'm so sorry for what i did."
"don't apologize."
"i will. you almost died because of me."
"don't speak of that now," you hush him with another kiss.
he listens, putting his other hand on your other leg and gently spreading them. he falls to his knees, hands still firmly planted on your thighs. you try pushing them together, instinctively, but you should've known better than that. they stay in place under his grip, exposing your glistening core to his hungry eyes. it's almost like he can see the colorful dust cloud down there, the layer of arousal mimicking his sweat and reflecting the blue of the sky.
yeosang isn't in a rush, unlike you. your hand pathetically grips his hair, pushing his head towards your pulsating and burning core. he chuckles between your legs, cool air hitting your clit from the proximity.
"please?"
"what do you beg for, pretty?"
"don't tease me, i've waited long enough. please, yeosang."
"oh, but i've waited long too. and now that i am here, i want to take my sweet time. i want to devour you, feel all of you, to mould you so that you fit perfectly in my hands. i want to make love to you among the stars, and i want to make you feel like a real queen of the skies."
it's like he fell out of a book. he knows all the right words, all the right gestures, and all the right touches. his tongue dips between your folds, plush lips following and lazily caressing your clit. your fingers tighten their grip in his hair, and your other hand digs its nails into his shoulder for support. settling for soft and gentle licks, yeosang truly takes his time with you. he makes out with your folds, as if they're your real lips, sucking on them, grazing them with his teeth and kissing along your clit. you squirm under his painfully slow moves, grinding your hips on his face in hopes of getting more friction.
tired of your disobedience and impatience, yeosang places your legs over his shoulders, burying his head further into your core and switching to rougher moves. lewd noises escape your lips, and you do not try to conceal them. he should know what effect he has on you.
he slurps up your nectar, coating his lips in shiny fluid and enjoys your core essence. he eats you like a starved man, not bothering to take a proper breath. he sucks harshly on your clit, drawing moans and gasps from you. when he pulls away, his cheeks are flushed, and his lips plump and glistening with your arousal. a thin string of saliva connects his mouth to your core, and you almost black out at the sight. you pull him by his hair, crashing your lips on his again. you taste yourself on his tongue, and even though you never liked reading about it or seeing it, it is something that you were truly missing out on.
you nudge him, asking him to switch positions. he smiles into the kiss, but turns you over so effortlessly. he is now the one laying down, and you are the one to break the kiss and get on your knees. you see him clearly for the first time. you decide to give him a taste of his own medicine, by taking it slow and teasing him. you kiss his thighs, ignore his aching area, and continue kissing his lower stomach. he can't help but reach for your hair, softly caressing it as you try your hardest to hold back, but seeing that he doesn't mind the delay, but rather enjoys it, you stop the teasing.
 your tongue doesn't hesitate to lick a stripe up his hardened cock, circling around his tip and collecting the precum. he hums with pleasure, but doesn't close his eyes. he wouldn't miss this for anything. you take his red tip between your lips, slowly pushing until you almost touch his stomach. he twitches inside your hot mouth, the tip caressing the back of your throat and making your eyes tear up. finally, crying for a different reason.
unlike you, he doesn't buck his hips to speed up your moves. he is perfectly obedient, petting your head and muttering words of praise.
"that's a good girl," he whispers.
you bob your head up and down, testing the waters. he only sighs and hums, not yet moaning. your impatience wins again, your body eager to extract more dramatic sounds from him. you pull away from him, but not without a teasing kiss to his tip, before climbing into his lap.
"how do you want it, my queen?" he cups your face, and you're quick to nuzzle your cheek against his warm palm.
"i want it just like this. me on top."
"oh? didn't take you for one to be on top."
"i'll surprise you with so many things, kang yeosang. you just wait."
"that's my girl."
driven by pure lust and euphoria, you do not care about protection, or the aftermath. you simply raise your hips and align his cock with your clenching hole, then slide down on it. he slides in, inch by inch, deliciously stretching you and filling you to the brim. when you finally sit on it, both of you moan out, hands reaching for each other. his hands help you roll your hips, while your hands feel his torso and chest. you move, slowly, just the way he likes it.
the moans and sighs leaving his lips are the prettiest sounds you've ever heard. you stay silent, wanting to hear more of him. his eyes are fixed at the point where both of you are connected, pupils dilated as he watches your wet hole swallow him whole. the room is filled with squelching noises, the creaking of the chair, passionate kissing here and there, and neverending exclamations of pleasure.
you find yourself whining for release pretty quickly, the buildup already more intense than any of your previous orgasms. yeosang seems to be reaching his end as well, seeing his head hanging from the chair and exposing his pretty neck to you. you can't help but snake your hands up his torso, fingers finding the key pressure on his neck and gently pressing. he chokes out with surprise, sending you a single glance of pure ecstasy before letting his head fall back again.
the dried tears on his glowing face look majestic, along with his eyes rolled back and his hair a mess. he looks glorious under you, especially as his moans get more high pitched and needy. you feel yourself becoming tired, but you love the position too much to change.
"come on, love. fuck yourself dumb on my cock."
such vulgar words from such an angelic face make your insides quiver. it gives you a boost of energy, and you quicken your pace and bounce just like he told you to. he doesn't break eye contact with you, nor does he let you do all the work. his hips meet yours, reaching deeper inside and making you finally moan out loud. he sits up straight, pulling you close to him and holding your body in place so he can collide his hips with yours quicker and with more accuracy. you are a drooling mess, forehead pressed against his as you shamelessly moan into his lips.
"come on, angel. milk me dry like the good girl you are."
your walls squeeze around him, moans becoming whines and mewls.
"fuck, love- i'm going to fill you up-" he grunts, lips desperately chasing yours.
but both of you are too lust driven to kiss properly, so you settle for moaning into each others mouth and bite each others lips, all while chasing the sweet pleasure.
"my love..." he moans.
"yes-" you choke out, feeling the buildup getting ready to errupt.
"my fate..." he grabs your face, forcing you to look into his eyes.
"yeosang-" you sob, pathetically grinding your hips on his.
"my queen of cosmos."
the orgasm tears through you, erupting in your lower stomach and spreading to the edges of your body. warm liquid shoots inside you, and yeosang keeps rocking his hips to the point where he has your eyes rolled back and jaw dropped, no sound exiting your mouth. your nails leave marks on his back, shoulder and neck, just like your lips do on his. you bite down on his bottom lip, accidentally making it bleed. he hisses at the pain, but doesn't forget to help you ride out your orgasm. your moans bounce off the walls of the cockpit, filling yeosang's ears like heavenly music.
the man doesn't seem to get enough of you, because he lays you on your back and slides back inside you. you don't protest, instead relaxing your body and throwing you head back, much like he did. you let him praise you, use you, worship you. you could never handle more than one orgasm, yet kang yeosang has you moaning on the third one already. by the fourth one, you feel like you're drunk or on some kind of substances.
the vivid colours of the nebula never stop, dancing with each other and illuminating your bodies. yeosang kisses you, over and over, whispering sweet things into your ear and asking if you're good. you don't reply with words, but with a kiss to his forehead, nose, lips, whatever you could.
yeosang makes love to you until the ship swims out of the dust cloud, revealing the void littered with millions of glimmering dots once again. you've stopped counting after five, and let yourself go in his arms. maybe this was your fate after all.
or maybe you were kept alive just to confess to your wrongdoings to the man that has proclaimed his love to you. maybe your punishment is his kindness towards you, when you know you don't deserve it.
"i love you."
"i love you too, yeosang." you say it back, guilt still eating up your heart like the first time he said it, unaware that you could hear him.
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the blonde haired man didn't have to try hard to get used to waking up beside you. it was his favorite part of the day for months now: waking up to your kisses, or the other way around. having breakfast together, going to the gym, then showering together. perhaps it was repetitive, but to yeosang, it was everything.
today, however, he woke up way before you. he has raided the luggage room, and created a mess until he found what he was looking for. you did your usual routines alone today, with yeosang busying himself with something else all day.
"i'd like to finish that book today, if you don't mind? i'll see you for dinner tonight."
"alright then. i'll miss you." you pout.
"i'll see you in a few hours, darling. fancy dress code?"
"sure! we haven't done that in a while. i can't wait."
and that's how yeosang found himself in the restaurant, spending two hours decorating the place with ryan's help.
"is the rose too much, ryan?"
"depends on the occasion, sir."
"let's say... proposal."
"i believe it is too little, sir."
"yeah, well, unless you can shit out a rose right here, i don't have much choice. i stole this one from the little terrarium in the lobby."
ryan doesn't respond, in his true robot style. yeosang sighs, lighting the candle on the table. you should be here any minute now.
"maybe i should've done it in the big terrarium." he overthinks.
"if i may, sir, the hibernation room would also be a meaningful place."
yeosang raises an eyebrow, amused. "hibernation room?"
"it's what started your new fate."
"ah, the broken pods. i guess i have to visit the engineers on board once, to thank them for that malfunction."
"oh, no need sir. you can thank miss y/n."
yeosang stops arranging the cutlery, looking at the humanoid robot. "what do you mean?"
"well, she is the one behind the malfunction. at least behind yours. so she is the one to thank."
"what?"
"oh, i thought you knew. apologies sir-"
"explain." he walks towards ryan, brows furrowed and hand fidgeting with the jewelry box in his pocket.
"i really shouldn't, sir. apologies, i-"
"you'll tell me," yeosang reaches for a glass of water, ready to pour it over the machine, "right. fucking. now."
"her pod was the only one that malfunctioned. yours was perfectly fine, sir. miss was lonely, and sad. she spent a whole week looking for a perfect match, and found you. she opened your lid, and rushed back to her room."
a crash, similar to the one on the very first day he woke up, echoes through the restaurant. yeosang turns around, finding your startled face looking at him and a broken bottle of wine by your feet.
you don't dare move, afraid of what he'll do. you have no excuse. and no shame.
he slowly steps towards you, causing you to step back. unlike the first day, his face doesn't give away anger. he is calm, and it scares you more. you wish he'd yell, push, throw. yet he doesn't, simply walking into your direction and stopping right in front of you, separated by a broken bottle. he steps in dark red liquid, the ruined shoes being the last thing on his mind.
"yeosang-" you whimper, his still face torturing you.
"don't."
"b-but-"
"do. not."
"you have to understand- i- i was just-"
his hand wraps around your neck, putting light pressure on it. "you took everything from me."
"yeosang, please."
"you do not get to cry. you do not get to feel my pity. you do not get to feel my mercy."
"please, understand me!"
"no!" he drops you on the floor. "i won't fucking understand you! i'd never do such a cruel thing to someone! have you felt no shame every time you looked at me? kissed me? comforted me when i cried about it?!"
pieces of glass tear your palms as you try to stand up, but fail. you sob on the floor, chest hurting from intensity. the glass shards dig into your thighs, and your dress soaks up the wine. you wipe your cheeks with your bloodied hand, accidentally smearing a few red drops on your face.
"here." he throws something in front of you before storming off.
you wail on the floor for what seems like hours. with your knees pressed to your chest, and your head resting on top of your knees, you cry. your dress is soaked with alcohol, tears and snot. you have no dignity left at this point. once you finally start calming down, you notice the plush box that lays discarded on the floor.
it reveals a stunning ring, with a simple stone in the middle. it looks like it was overgrown by vines, and is a rose gold colour. guess you can add it to the box with the broken necklace now. another relationship broken because of you.
days are longer than ever, with you waking up alone and eating alone. that is all you do, besides an occasional visit to the terrarium. when you hear his doors open, you do not dare exit your room until you hear them close. with each day you wake up, you love him more. your body aches for his, and soul yearns for his. maybe if you told him right away in the beginning, this wouldn't have happened. maybe he would've accepted it, he would have more time to understand.
you're a crying mess, from morning to night, until you pass out of exhaustion.
today, you woke up with a hoarse voice and painful chest. you desperately needed to get out the room, no matter if you heard yeosang's door or not. you might faint if you don't leave.
you limp through the hallways, holding onto the walls. you make it all the way until the rotating tube. why was there no other way to get to the other side?
you sit at the edge, head leaning against the stationary wall and legs hanging above the space. you watch the tube rotate, not brave enough to jump in today. but if you don't make it to the terrarium, you might stay here forever.
the doors open behind you, the familiar voice of the system echoing through the tube. you gulp, his scent enveloping you. you expect him to walk away, or simply jump in the zero gravity space and continue his path. but he holds out his hand for you to take.
you look up at him, eyes tired and bloodshot red. he spares you a single glance, before furrowing his eyebrows and looking away. your hand slides into his, as if made with his measurements in mind. he pulls you up slowly, then presses your body close to his. it is as if you were never separated. his vanilla scent fills up your nostrils, and soft breathing soothes you. you hold onto him, like you did when he took you space walking.
he moves through the tube effortlessly, stopping for a while to gaze at the planets below. they are as breathtaking as the previous ones, and the ones to come. yeosang never ceases to be amazed by the beauty of the universe.
upon reaching the other side, you clutch onto him, knowing that this is going to be a rare occasion now. maybe it was just you, but his breath hitches, as if he wants to say something. no sound leaves his pretty lips, not even when you land in the hallway and he helps you find your balance.
"thank you." you whisper.
he stays by your side, eyeing you up and down. "are you alright?"
"uh, yeah. aside from... you know."
he presses the back of his head against your forehead to feel your temperature. "you're a little hot."
a smile creeps on your lips, and you are desperate to make a joke. typical you, making jokes in situations that are serious.
"go on, say it." he sighs, his lips curving up as well.
"no, the moment is gone now."
"want me to repeat it?"
you roll your eyes, then become serious again. he stares at you, an unexplainable emotion on his face. disgust? maybe.
"where are you headed? you should lay down if you're feeling sick."
"terrarium. i need... fresh air."
"i was headed there too."
"oh. sorry, i'll just go somewhere else." you start turning around, and he grabs you by your elbow.
"you don't have to. come here."
before you can protest, yeosang picks you up in his arms, carrying you bridal style once again. while he is focused on the path, you take the time to admire him. he is beautiful. his eyes also seem to be a reddish pink shade, and he has slight bags under his eyes. but before a hope sparks inside your heart, you remind yourself that he does not weep after you. he does it after his family, and after his changed fate.
after the life you stole from him.
"i can hear you thinking."
"sorry."
"stop apologizing."
"okay, sorry."
he looks down at you, amused. "you haven't changed a bit."
"uh... sorry?"
for his own sake, he decides to ignore you. when reaching the terrarium, he sets you down on one of the swings. your head feels lighter already, but your voice stays the same. you aren't used to being this silent, despite being alone for almost a month. you steady yourself, holding onto the chains that hold the plank you call a swing. yeosang stands behind it, putting his hands over yours and gently beginning to push it.
"i understand." he starts.
"you don't have to-"
"no, let me." and you do let him. he lightly pushes you on the swing, taking his time to form sentences. "while you were passed out... i wished for nothing more than for you to wake up. if you didn't, i'd probably do as you did. humans aren't made to live alone, and i never believed it. until i got in this situation. thus, i understand. what i did not understand though, why me? hundreds of men and women in those pods, and you chose me. what made me stick out? what made you come over and open the lid? it's not like there are any personality traits written anywhere. i could've been a douchebag, and you wouldn't have known. then what? would you have gotten rid of me? locked me somewhere?"
"you were simply... angelic." you don't have to think long to give him an answer. you did the thinking before opening his pod.
"angelic?"
"you had this beautiful face, serenity painted on it. true, i did not know anything about you. you could've been short tempered, violent, or worse. after all, i'm a girl. alone, with no protection. yet i took my chances. and you turned out to be perfect. i fell in love with every part of you; with your soul, brain, body. you were my dream partner."
he is speechless. for the first time ever you speak openly about it, and you do not stutter.
"and i wanted to be your dream partner. i tried my hardest to be perfect, but my previous doings kept coming back and haunting me. that night... i wanted to tell you. i truly did. but that stupid robot beat me to it. i mean, seriously, he can't push a few buttons but he can gossip?"
yeosang snorts, then nods in agreement.
"i'm sorry."
"what?" you whip your head around to look at him. "no, i'm the one who should be apologizing. you did nothing wrong!"
"i've been thinking. i apologize for what happened on the space walk. and i apologize for getting violent with you. i just felt... cheated. and stolen from. i felt betrayed. and all that by the person i love with all my being."
"but, yeosang-"
"look, y/n." he walks around the swing and crouches in front of you, stopping your swinging. his hands rest on your knees, thumbs absentmindedly rubbing your skin. "for all we know, they could all be headed to a different type of destruction. maybe they miscalculated. maybe the planet already has life on it, and they see humans as threat. they won't hesitate to exterminate them in order to protect their planet. or maybe it is a higher, more advanced civilization. i don't know about you, but i'd rather live my life on a sized down earth than live to see my own species die out or become slaves to someone else. so, in a way, thank you. for saving me."
"oh, yeosang." you exhale, falling on your knees and into his arms. "i love you. i love you so much."
"i love you too, princess. say..."
"yes?" you pull away, wiping your upcoming tears so they don't fall.
"can you give me my ring back so i can propose? but please act surprised."
you laugh, and he laughs with you. you pull it out from your pocket, and he looks at you with a wider smile.
"i can't believe you had it right here."
"had what?" you shove it into his hand.
"what do you mean? the ri- oh. right." he catches on.
you stand up, pretending to look at the plants while he shuffles behind you. he clears his throat after a while, making you turn around. you fake a shocked expression, putting your hand over your open mouth after seeing him on his knee. the box is opened, and the ring is as beautiful as the first time you saw it.
"will you marry me, my queen of cosmos? and rule the cosmos with me by your side?"
"i will, my queen hand."
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🌠 𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: first of all, omg a happy ending?? is this a first for barbz? i hope you enjoyed reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it :)
🌠 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 (𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐚𝐥/𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬)
@kodzukein @woomyteez @mulletdaddyjayjo @bae4choi @haatohwa @marvelahsobx @jxhnnyfav @angellluh @jjaemasung @oddracha @devastateed
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1whore1gang · 11 months
Text
“You okay honey?”
Inspired by this post
Summary: the TF141 boys play rock, paper, scissors to determine who will play the role of the doting yet protective boyfruend for you tonight so pervs don’t come flirt with you
It’s short, but my brain isn’t working lately
warnings: some sexual content
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“Guys come on, seriously.” I stared on as Price and Soap were in the ‘finals’ of their competition to see who’d be your fake boyfriend tonight at the bar. Price cheers as he finally defeats Soap, wrapping his arm around you and placing a sweet kiss to your temple.
This had been an ongoing thing with the four of them since you had an altercation with a creep at a bar and had to punch said dude in the face. The boys didn’t want you to worry about that anymore, so they always play the role of the protective boyfriend/fiancé/husband for you. It’s worked well so far, so you can’t complain.
You also won’t complain about the attention you get from them.
Each man had a different way, each with their own pros and cons.
Gaz was sweet and affectionate, and he was calm of a guy were to come up to you. He handled everything with grace, but he wasn’t too keen on being super touchy. He’d compliment you, stand behind you during conversations and maybe place a hand on your tight, but that was all.
Ghost, was hardly a boyfriend type. He didn’t ever touch you, unless you physically forced his hand into yours, and even then he’d tense at the action. As much as he cared and wanted to protect you, he wasn’t there to pretend to be your boyfriend, he was there to pummel any man who looked in your direction.
Soap, he was so much fun when he was your fake boyfriend. He was touchy, clingy, fiesty and all over perfect. He was always by your side, hands around your waist, lips pecking your neck lightly, teasing you. That was his approach, he’d tease you all night, make you want him. Most of the time, the moment you both left the bar, you’d burst out laughing at how you two acted, but there’s been some nights you ended up in his bed.
Price, was a beautiful fake lover. He was sweet and tender. He catered to you and always had a hand on you, silently claiming you as his to everyone in the bar. He’d whisper sweet nothings in your ear when he saw another man looking, making you squirm. He was your favorite by far, the way he so gently held you, kissed you. His actions were tender, the fire only showing up if a man wouldn’t leave you alone.
“You ready doll?” Price’s voice sounded out. You nodded, leaning into him.
You all headed out to the bar, the night going wonderfully. You had beaten Ghost in a game of pool, had the bartender buy you all a round of shots, and more. The music had you swaying your hips as you lined up your shot in pool. You were against Soap now, the championships.
You were lining up to hit the 8-ball, your jeans tightening around your ass when you felt a pair of strong hands grope you. You smiled, prepared to see Price, but before you could turn around, your eyes met all 4 men across the table from you. All four of them looked angry. You fully stood up, turning around to see an older man, maybe a couple years older than Price looking down at you seductively. “Can I help you?”
“Your ass looked to delicious, I couldn’t help myself.” He licked his lips.
“I suggest you back off.” Your voice was matter of factly.
“Why? You gonna hurt me? A little thing like you?” He cooed. I couldn’t help but laugh at the man. “What’s so funny?” He smiled.
“I won’t hurt you, but they will.” Throwing my thumb over my shoulder to the four men.
“You okay honey?” Price’s voice purred beside me, his hand landing on my back.
The guy looked up to Price, who towered over him. “I don’t know, am I?” I said, smirking at the man.
“I was just telling her how pretty she looked.” He gulped.
Price chuckled. “By grabbing her ass? Nuh uh.” Price stepped forward. “Let’s go have a little talk.” Grabbing the man’s arm, he took him outside of the bar.
Soap ran to you, asking if you were okay. You smiled and nodded your head. “Yeah I’m okay Johnny.” You patted his bicep.
Ghost and Gaz stood by the pool table, watching everyone’s things, including Price’s car keys and your purse.
Soon, Price waltzed back into the bar. His hips swaying as he sauntered back over to you, swooping his arm around your waist and pulling you in. “He won’t be bothering you anymore.” He kissed the top of your head as you returned to your pool tournament.
A couple of weeks later, you were all out a new bar across town, Soap’s arms wrapped around your waist as you spoke to some people. He had won the rock, paper, scissors that night. Your eyes widened as you heard a familiar voice, “You!”
Your face turned as Soap straightened up to his full height, one of his hands remaining on the small of your back. Your eyes met the man from the bar that night with Price. “Who’s this man? You get around fast.”
His voice was confident, like he had caught me doing something wrong. I looked at Soap, who looked ready to pounce. The fire was in Soap’s eyes as he bared his teeth in a smile. “You like my lady? Like what you see?”
“She’s a fiery one she is, just look at her.” The man bit his lip as he made a curve motion with his hands to simulate the shape of your hips. Soap let out a low chuckle.
“Any man knows you don’t answer that question honestly.” He dead panned, Soap’s voice deadly. “Why don’t I make this easy on you and let you walk away unharmed?”
The other man licked his lips, unmoving. Soap took a step forward, his hand sliding off of you as he stood just next to you, his size defined next to you.
“Either you walk away or you never walk again.” Soap growled.
The man quickly cowered, eyes widened. “Where do you find these men?” He shouted before scampering into the crowd.
“Thank you.” I said, kissing Soap. He was always much more willing to do PDA than the others, really making it believable to those in the bar that you were a couple.
“Anything for you my dear.” Soap said sweetly. “Shall we ditch this joint?”
I giggled, grabbing at his chest. “Are you gonna do that thing with your fingers again?” I bit my lip.
We heard someone clear their throat as we both backed away from each other, looking to the other 3 men. “We’re right here ya know?” Ghost spoke.
Soap and I laughed as the others bursted out in chuckles and smiles.
“Ya we know.” You said, earning some more chuckles out of the men and an ass grab from Soap.
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simplyholl · 11 months
Text
Frozen Stiff
Summary: Captured by the Frost Giants, your time on Jotunheim gets interesting.
Pairing: Jotun Loki x F. Reader
Warnings: Smut. 18+ ONLY. Minors DNI. Loss of virginity. Size kink. Somnophilia.
See my Masterlist here
You really did it this time. Your father instructed everyone stay in their homes this night. Loki, king of the Frost Giants had warned your father, King Erik, king of the elves that he would be coming through Alfheim. If anyone was caught outside, they would be considered an enemy, and taken prisoner.
Your father’s royal decree had went in one ear and out the other. You were considered a trouble maker. Not because of anything you had done consciously. Trouble seemed to follow wherever you went. You were so unlike your sister, the future queen of Alfheim, and no one let you forget that.
She was tucked away safely in her chambers with the door locked. Here you were, hiding in the bushes outside the palace. You wanted to get a good look at the Frost Giants. You had never seen one in person, and you didn’t think the view from your chambers would do them any justice.
Loud footsteps echoed throughout the forest as they stomped through. The trees were shaking with each step they took, the force of their large bodies leaving holes in the ground where they walked. They were approaching quickly. You really should run back in the palace, but you were frozen. The first few Jotuns walk by and you’re stunned.
They are even bigger than you imagined. Then you see him, King Loki. He struts through and a wild thought comes to you. He’s beautiful. You had always been taught that the Frost Giants were ugly beasts that would take misbehaving children in the night. They seemed nice enough. King Loki had even given your father warning before passing through. He and the last three giants walk passed you and you count the seconds before you can run back inside.
Woof
You look beside you terrified. Your sister’s dog, Arnie, pants beside you, tail wagging.
Woof
He barks again. You grab him, trying your best to shush him. But it’s too late. He’s gained their attention. They turn back around, looking toward the bushes you are hiding in. You sink lower to the ground, trying to shove your body under the bush. You close your eyes, hoping if you can’t see them, they can’t see you.
But their footsteps shake the ground as they come closer. “What have we here?” One of them growls, picking you up with one hand. “We found a spy, your highness.”
“Bring him to me.” King Loki demands. You squeak as you are dropped from one huge hand into another. You shiver, the temperature of his skin is colder than you could have imagined. “Not a he, but a she.” He says amused, as he looks closely at you.
“What are you doing out here, little mouse? I warned your king that we would take anyone we found outside prisoner.” You swallow, trying to seem braver than you felt. “My father, King Erik, he did command the whole village to stay inside, your highness. I was simply curious and I wanted to see you for myself.”
Loki looks at you in the palm of his hand, amusement dancing on his features. “Your father, the king? So that makes you a princess? Are you the heir to the throne?” You shake your head. “No, your highness, that would be my sister.” You introduce yourself hoping it will get you out of this situation.
“A princess for a prisoner. What an interesting day it’s turning out to be.” He sneers. “No, wait!” You protest. He closes his hand around you, silencing you. When you arrive in Jotunheim, you are brought to a room with a giant bed, huge fluffy pillows, and a roaring fireplace. King Loki places you on the bed.
“This isn’t normally how I treat my prisoners, but you are still a princess. As long as you obey me, you may stay in this room and avoid the dungeon. You are free to walk around, and I will let everyone know that no harm is to come to you. Am I understood?”
“Yyyyesss” You stutter, you had been freezing the entire trip. You run to the fireplace, rubbing your hands together in an effort to get warm. Loki studies you, his red eyes lingering on your sheer nightgown. You really didn’t plan on getting captured when you went out, so you didn’t bother with putting on a proper dress.
You regret that decision now as his gaze lands on your breasts, heaving on your shaking form. He could see everything through the nightgown, and he was already looking, so you didn’t bother with attempting to cover yourself. “I’ll have someone make you proper clothing. In the meantime, there are extra blankets in the closet.” He walks out, leaving you with your thoughts.
Months had passed and you were settling into your new home. No one treated you like a prisoner, and you decided for once in your life to stay out of trouble. You had been given a job in the palace kitchen and you were making new friends. You were actually starting to like it here.
You giggle as your closest friend Marta, asks about your sex life. As a princess, you had to save yourself for whoever your father chose for you. You knew very little about the act itself. But Marta filled you in. She answered every question you had without judging you, and she even gave you some tips. The most shocking part was learning that a male might want to kiss you between your thighs. Marta told you there was nothing like it, so you couldn’t help fantasizing about it the rest of the day. When you laid your head down to rest, your tried to think of more questions for Marta.
The door to your room squeaked open. King Loki walked in, shutting it behind him. He gently removed the blankets from your sleeping form. You were wearing the nightgown from the first night you met him. He reaches out, his long finger grazing your nipple. The chill from his skin causing it to harden under his touch. You sigh from his attention, but don’t wake up. He carefully spreads your legs, laying down between them. His cold tongue meets your center, and you buck your hips toward him. He takes this as an invitation, long tongue lapping between your thighs.
You jump up, searching your room for him, but he’s not there. It was all a dream. You confide in Marta about it and she says it must be your conversation. It made its way into your subconscious. But you didn’t talk to Marta about it the next night when you had it or the next night. Weeks had passed and still, you had the same dream every night. It made it awkward for you when you had to serve King Loki his meals.
“King Loki has requested you serve his dessert in his chambers.” Marta told you, handing you the tray piled high with pastries, cakes, and fruit. You knock on his door, waiting for his instruction to enter. When he calls for you to come in, you bow to him. “My king, I’ve brought your dessert.” He’s propped up on his bed, gesturing for you to place it on a table by the window.
He’s so big, he nearly takes up all the room on the large bed. His muscled blue form has been the object of your fantasies for a while now. “Remove your dress, and get on the bed.” He demands. You drop the metal tray on the table. “Excuse me, your highness. I must have misheard you.”
He pats the bed, “You heard correctly, little mouse. I know you desire me. You dream of me every night. I’m only rewarding your good behavior.” You fight the urge to pinch yourself. You must be dreaming. “How did you know about that?” You manage to mumble. “I know all, little one. You can hide nothing from me.”
He beckons you with his thick finger. You do as he instructed, removing your dress and getting on the bed with him. He lifts you with one hand, hovering you above his face. “Wha- what are you doing?” You stammer. “I’m having my dessert.” He quips placing you on his mouth. His long, cold tongue covers your center. You shiver from the chill. His velvety muscle curls beneath your clit, flicking it.
He treats you like a porcelain doll, holding you as if you might break. He could easily crush you without trying. You really were like his own personal doll. He enters your untouched flesh with his tongue, rocking you back and forth on it. Your small hands wrap around his fingers, trying to ground yourself. He drinks you like it’s water, the icy muscle tipping you over the edge, making your toes curl.
He suddenly tosses you on your back, his bulky form trapping you beneath him. He settles between your thighs. They start aching as he spreads them as wide as he can. It’s still not wide enough to accommodate him. So he pushes your knees to your chest, his gigantic cock nudging your center.
The thought of ruining such a small, delicate woman driving him mad with lust. “I’ll split you in half, little mouse. You would like that wouldn’t you?” Your still dazed from your orgasm, so you only hum in response. “My sweet princess is cock drunk and she hasn’t had any cock yet.” You nod, reaching for him. “I am the first to touch you, correct?” Another hum to confirm.
You gasp when he dips a large finger inside you, curling it upwards. “I have to get you ready.” He explains. As he works his skilled finger inside you, you rock your hips, hungry for more. You whine as he removes his digit from you, but you’re not left wanting for long. He thrusts into you, and you scream. He stretches you, and you try to adjust to his size. You feel him bottom out and you wiggle to get more comfortable.
Tears fall down your cheeks, the stinging not subsiding. “My poor princess. I’m too much for her. It’s only the tip, my sweet girl.” He gently traces the outline of his cock bulging in your stomach. Loki presses on it. “I can see myself protruding out of your stomach, little one. Do you know how feral that makes me? Such a small creature struggling to take the head of my cock.”
He tilts his hips, hitting that spot that makes you see stars. Goosebumps line your arms when you feel his breath on your ear. “You’re doing so good for me, my little princess. You feel incredible. I’ll keep you forever, my little plaything.” You whimper at his words, a gush of arousal soaking him. He moans, looking at your fucked out expression. He wraps his enormous hand around your waist, thrusting you down on him, faster.
Loki roars as he releases inside you. He pulls out, spreading your now limp legs. “I want to see me dripping out of you.” He lowers his head, black tresses covering your stomach as his icy tongue laps at you once more. “What a delicious mess you made.” He coos.
Tags
@fictive-sl0th @lokisgoodgirl @lokidbadguy @ozymdias @cindylynn @cakesandtom @eleniblue @marygoddessofmischief @coldnique @mochie85 @goblingirlsarah @lokisninerealms @wheredafandomat @peaches1958 @freegardenbanananeck @chantsdemarins @lokidokieokie @l0ki3000 @anukulee @multifandom-worlds @alexakeyloveloki @ladymischief11 @kats72 @mischief2sarawr @lamentis-10 @loz-3 @litaloni @lulubelle814 @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @avengersfan25 @silver-tongue-taken-to-bed @xorpsbane @mybugabomlb @bunny24sstuff @luthien-elvenia-asher @gruftiela @itsybitchylittlewitchy @asgards-princess-of-mischief @weirdothatwritess
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forlix · 10 months
Text
‧ ❆ ˚ 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝 (besides myself)・l.f.
— you spend three years loving him, six months losing him, and four hours waiting for him to get the hell out of your house. but the human heart is more stubborn than you know.
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words・5.4k
pairing・lee felix x gn!reader
genres・babysitter!au, girldad!lix, nobody look at me, toothrotting fluff, more angst than originally intended tbh, exes to lovers, hurt/comfort, happy ending yayyy, non-linear storyline
warnings・cousin has a korean name and experiences one (1) minor head bump, mc is temporarily heartbroken and experiences one (1) breakdown
playlist・house song by searows・glad by tori kelly・let's pretend by del water gap・you were good to me by jeremy zucker
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a/n・hiiii my loves, i'm so unbelievably excited to bring u my first contribution to my and @astraystayyh's collaboration, "winter falls" ♡ every time i write for our ray of sunshine i'm reminded of how thankful i am to love him. this fic ruined me. hope it does the same to you (smile)
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I. everything
“One day,” you muttered to the toddler sitting on your shoulders, “you’ll experience something deeply, irreversibly humbling, and I’ll be there to witness your downfall.”
Byeol responded to this with an unbothered babble. She then gathered two handfuls of your hair and yanked using far too much force to be biologically possible.
You folded like a lawn chair. “Mother—!”
Oh, that word was not suitable for button-sized ears.
“—oh, my dear mother, why? Why me?”
Technically speaking, your aunt should’ve been the target of your lamentations, but all she did was produce the child presently steering you around the kitchen like you were her own personal bumper car. Your own mother was the one who volunteered you to watch said child during the first weekend of your winter break. Only for an hour until the babysitter arrives, she’d said (raising her voice, so as to be heard over your groaning).
You adored Byeol. She made scarily accurate chipmunk sounds and possessed an immobilizing fear of grapes. She bust out a dance move before she took her first steps. The girl could have you floored with laughter without being able to say more than three words at a time. Still, this was far from how you imagined onsetting your desperately-needed few weeks off. Not to mention it was now half past three; your shift should’ve ended two minutes ago.
As if on cue, the doorbell rang. Byeol emitted an excited onomatopoeia like a golden retriever detecting the mailman. Your reaction wasn’t too far off; you swiveled your head in the sound’s direction, sang out “coming!” in a delighted vibrato, and twirled into the foyer, your hands around Byeol’s ankles anchoring her in place.
You cracked open the door and found yourself face-to-face with Byeol’s babysitter. The freckles scattered across his high cheekbones and sloping nose seemed to you like they were imprinted by the sun itself. His hair was dark, falling just shy of pitch black, and long, ending an inch or so below pierced ears. A few misbehaving strands rested over his forehead but did little to obstruct your view of his eyes: profoundly brown and pointed at either end, like poinsettia petals.
He was the most beautiful man you’d ever seen. You felt your skin warm, your heart flip. You opened your mouth. 
Then Byeol hit her head against the vertical edge of the front door, loud enough for it to echo.
The panic that seized you in that moment was truly unlike anything you’d experienced before. You caught one glimpse of the stranger’s expression (as mortified as you expected), and then you were seeing your own epitaph on the inside of your eyelids, engraved with the four words “Death by Furious Aunt.”
“Was that—?” The man sputtered, and his voice was rich and full and accented and just as breathtaking as the rest of him and holy fucking shit now was not the time.
“My fucking god,” you whispered, completely forgetting to watch your mouth. In a hurry, you swung Byeol off your shoulders and dropped to a knee. You leaned in close to examine her reddening forehead and cradled the plush of her cheek; she blinked at you a few times, fascinated by the sudden sight of your face again.
“You okay, Byeollie? That hurt a lot, didn’t it? I’m so, so sorr—”
Byeol started to laugh.
Not laugh as in those little chuckles she let out randomly, like there was something inherently amusing about the kitchen cupboard, but laugh as in a boisterous, resounding guffaw, like a great-uncle at a family gathering off one too many martinis.
This rendered you speechless for the second time in under a minute. Then, you lifted your other hand to cradle her other cheek, her face now sandwiched between your palms, and squeezed.
“I broke my cousin,” you whispered, your voice was so deathly serious that the man in the doorway had to stifle a laugh of his own.
His knee brushed against your shin as he sat down to your left, folding his legs into a criss-cross. You could discern notes of lavender and orange blossoms in the delicate cologne that clung to him, perforated the air and your mind both.
“Can I?” He asked.
“Please.”
Carefully, you shifted Byeol’s small frame towards him; the manner in which he accepted her was so smooth and practiced that there was no doubt in your mind you were watching a professional at work. He settled her on his right knee, then dipped his head to look her in the eye.
“Hi, princess,” he cooed with a dulcet smile. He curved his pointer finger, dusted it beneath her chin. “Why are you laughing, silly girl?”
Oh.
Oh.
You might just continue your lineage after all.
“Y/N-ie,” she answered, still tittering.
He looked to you with a slight tilt to his head, and you nodded affirmatively. He murmured a quiet ah. “What about Y/N-ie?”
Somehow you sensed that she was about to embarrass you and pinched the bridge of your nose—in preparation.
“P-pretty.” I knew it!
The man let out the laugh he’d been holding back since earlier and tapped on her button nose, lowered his voice to a whisper that he knew you could hear.
“I agree.” His eye glinted playfully, matching his tone. “And so are you.” The bashful, high-pitched giggle she responded with sounded eerily similar to your inner monologue.
The two of you spent a little longer on the floor of the foyer making sure Byeol was okay, and then the girl upped and made a mad dash for the kitchen while yelling something about a horse, and if that didn’t confirm that she was completely fine (albeit incredibly strange) you didn’t know what would. You found her rolling around the carpet in the room adjacent to the kitchen and left her to her own devices while you and her babysitter fixed up a small fruit plate for her afternoon snack. No grapes, of course.
He told you he usually went by Felix, but that his Korean name was probably easier for Byeol to pronounce, with its easier consonants and whatnot. You asked which name he preferred, and he said either or. He was a recent college graduate, a year older than you, who was determined to spend at least the next two years doing nothing but working out his future. He accepted the part-time babysitting position to pick up some light cash in the process.
“And ‘cause I’m good with kids,” he added, splitting apart a tangerine. “So I’ve been told.”
“Oh, you definitely are,” you said, plating a couple blueberries. “You melted her earlier.”
“She melted me. She’s so cute. And you’re so cute with her—I didn’t realize I was robbing someone of their job.”
You turned your head to regard the tot and let out a helpless laugh. Byeol tired of being a human lint roller a few minutes ago and had since moved on to staring aimlessly out the window.
“She doesn’t take me seriously, and I can’t stay mad at her,” you mused. “I would be a nightmare as her babysitter, trust me. She’s all yours.”
Felix held out two overturned handfuls of tangerine slices, to which you quickly moved the platter across the counter. He didn’t respond to your comments as he placed them on the outermost edge so that they looked like rays of sun emanating from a multicolored core. Adorable.
“Will you be around much, then?”
You made eye contact with him across the counter. On his perfect face was a teasing smirk and a subtle blush. Ah, you’d been mistaken, writing off his silence as concentration—he’d been contemplating how to best flirt with you.
“Y’know. In case I need any help teaching her cuss words,” he appended.
It was then your turn to flush a couple shades darker. “Please don’t tell her mom.”
“I won’t, I won’t.” He walked around the perimeter of the counter until he was directly in front of you; the lavender and orange blossoms returned. “On one condition.”
Not even one hour on the job and he was already trying to blackmail you? You respected it. “Which is?”
As he shifted some of his weight onto the counter, something too shifted in his smile, giving it a quality that was every bit as hopeful as it was gentle.
It was then, while Lee Felix was looking at you like that, all dilated pupils and long lashes, when you predicted that he would one day break your heart. You predicted you’d let him.
“Be around,” he said simply.
It wasn’t a question or a demand. In hindsight, you think it was more akin to a birthday wish, ill-fated the moment it hit the air.
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II. has changed
Felix pulled Byeol’s hood up and over her ears, and you realized he was right about the winter coat getting too small for her—she looked like a bowling pin. You muffled your snort into your scarf.
“And what was the last rule again?” He asked, his breath puffing into the frigid afternoon in tiny clouds. Byeol sighed like she knew anything of the world’s woes.
“No barking at other kids,” came the sad reply, but a toothy smile spread across her face anyways when Felix nudged the underside of her chin. She loved when he did that.
“That’s my girl,” he hummed. “I believe in you.”
“I’ll believe it when I see it,” you said, and the wounded look Felix shot you was like you’d just confessed to hating kittens. “Come on—she doesn’t have a good track record. I’m allowed to have my doubts.”
“I dunno what that means,” Byeol announced with admirable frankness, and then turned around and scurried down the porch stairs, scattering fun-sized footprints across the snowy streets.
As you braced yourself to follow her, Felix stopped you with a slip of his hand into the pocket of your puffer. His fingers first aligned with yours inside the insulated nylon, then chased the spaces in between. He leaned in close, placed a kiss on the apple of your cheek, another on the corner of your mouth. This brought a helpless smile to your face, too. He had a way of melting you and Byeol both.
“It’ll be fine,” he soothed. “A little barking never hurt anybody, baby.”
“Lix, last time somebody called animal control.”
“Ermm—a little barking never hurt most people.”
That winter, Byeol was four, and your relationship with Felix was about to turn two.
Funnily enough, you’d never figured out when your anniversary actually was. Felix wagered it was the day you met, as he knew he loved you the instant he saw you; you insisted it was months later, since it took both of you an entire winter break of open-ended flirting and informal dating to label yourselves for real. Imagine your horror when he showed up outside your college apartment on the last day of your fall semester, arms overflowing with flowers and gift bags brimming with your favorite things, the phrase “happy anniversary” on his lips three months before you perceived it to be. You’ve celebrated both days ever since.
You loved the ocean growing up. You didn’t get to visit it often, but when you did you would run up to the water’s very edge so that your toes dipped into the cold—and just stand there, observing, absorbing, until even the seam of your lips and the ends of your eyelashes were studded with crystals of seasalt. You found endless tranquility in its rhythmic whispers and unspeakable comfort in its oscillating waves, guaranteed to return after momentary departure.
Your fascination stemmed from the folktale your mother used to read to you before bed, about a sun goddess creating the earth. In the story, every component of nature was one of the sun’s beloved children. She allegedly loved them all, but you suspected the ocean was her favorite; it was obvious, the way she twinkled off its ebbing surface, the way every minuscule spot of light looked to you like a handprint of hers, left behind by eons of endless doting.
Felix reminded you of the ocean. Every day you grew more certain that you wanted to drown in him, to let his resonant voice and kind eyes sweep and keep you inside his depths. It was never salt that he pressed into your skin but warmth, stamped and sealed with caring hands and cautious lips. His deep whispers promised eternal love and temporary ecstasy and everything in between. You knew he would come back to you even if stranded in a different realm. And there was no questioning the goddess’ favoritism, either. The freckles on his face mirrored the sun’s very spots like an homage to his creator.
You didn’t love the ocean growing up, no. You had never loved before Felix.
The park was busy when the three of you arrived. Byeol and Felix recognized a few families as your aunt’s neighbors and hurried over to say hello. Your social butterflies. 
“I’ll be over there,” you called after them.
Felix stopped in his tracks, looked over his shoulder. It had started snowing lightly on your walk there, and snowflakes now sat atop his sable locks. He looked like a painting. “You okay?”
“Yes, yes.” You shooed them off. “Don’t worry about me. Go have fun.” 
With that, you withdrew to the sidelines, an unoccupied swingset adjacent to a baseball diamond covered in frost. 
Your baby cousin was brawny for her age, which you could’ve seen coming with how she was hauling at your hair two years ago, but even she couldn’t yet terrorize the playground without assistance. Who better to make her partner in crime than her favorite Bokkie? You couldn’t help but giggle as the two revolved around each other for the better part of an hour, Byeol’s smile colossal as she frolicked every which way, Felix’s smile worried but hopelessly endeared as he followed behind. He never let her leave his shadow. She never tried to.
It was there on those icy swings that you experienced a moment of strange clarity, like you’d broken the fourth wall of your own story. You could feel the winds of change blowing your hair across your shoulders. You were aware of time’s trickling from the gaps of your fingers like liquid mercury.
Your laughter dissipated to a bittersweet smile; your smile mellowed to dewy eyes. It seemed like just yesterday when Byeol was small enough to sit on your shoulders and Felix stepped into your kitchen for the first time. Now, she was scaling a rope ladder with the celerity of a crazed monkey while Felix hovered a wary hand by her waist. The muted sunlight caught on the silver rings he wore, particularly the thin, bright one on his middle finger. You had one just like it, adorning the same place. 
The last two years were the happiest of your life. Why couldn’t you remember where they went?
Lavender and orange blossoms announced your boyfriend’s arrival—that, and the sigh of fatigue that he expelled as he dropped into the swing next to you.
“I’m not cut out for this anymore.”
Byeol’s neighbor had temporarily relieved Felix of his post by taking her and his son to test out the seesaw, and you wouldn’t be surprised if the whole town could hear her enthusiastic shrieking.
“You know how people walk their dogs?” You mused. “Some dogs walk their people. She’s one of them.”
For a moment, he could only stare in disbelief at the grin creeping across your face; then, he groaned in a way that could only mean you were right on the money. You gave his thigh a sympathetic pat.
“You’re whipped, my love. It’s okay.”
“Maybe a little,” he admitted, suddenly perking up. “Hey, no barking though.”
“Are we considering that a win nowadays?”
“Do you see animal control anywhere?”
“Good point.”
Felix monitored your expression during the quiet interval that ensued—saw through the melancholy curve of your lips, the pensive slant of your gaze. There was a red tinge to the whites of your eyes that hadn’t been there before.
You saw him reach for you in your periphery. His fingers brushed a lock of hair behind the shell of your ear, remained there for three slow heartbeats, and then lifted away.
“Angel,” he murmured. “Talk to me.”
You shook your head. “It’s silly.”
“It’s not.” Not even ten seconds after the last time, he reached for you again, now to take your hand and bring it to his lap. “You know it’s not.”
“It’s just that—”
Felix thumbed over the ridges of your knuckles, his touch so gentle that it could’ve unraveled a chrysalis; it certainly unraveled you. You took a stabilizing breath.
“I wish could recognize my own happiness in the moment,” you sighed, “not just in retrospect. That way, even when it comes to an end, I’d still be able to look back and say with confidence that I was happy once. I’d like that, I think.”
His brows knit together as he processed your words, and, the next thing you knew, he left his swing trembling in his sudden absence and his trenchcoat became a black blur in the cold air.
Felix rested his elbows atop your knees as he knelt in front of you, cradled your face in his hands. He was achingly beautiful always, but you truly felt your breath swiped from your lungs at the new proximity of his ethereal features: petal-shaped eyes, wind-bitten cheeks, coral cupid’s bow. A painting.
“That’s easy enough,” Felix hummed. “How do you feel right now?”
You had zero agency in the smile this brought to your face. You wrapped your hands around his wrists, your answer quick, thoughtless. “Happy.”
He pressed his lips to the space between your eyes. “And now?”
“Happier.”
He pressed his lips to the curve of your jaw. “What about now?” 
“Even happier.”
His gaze flickered to his final destination, but you beat him to it, sealing your mouth against his with urgency. The kiss that followed was so intensely loving that your head went fuzzy. How was it that you felt his adoration for you even in his pliant lips, his velvet tongue? You ran your fingers through the part of his hair. You loved when you could feel the locks flutter back into place afterwards.
“GET A ROOM!”
You and Felix pulled away from one another, wearing matching expressions of bewilderment. Byeol was approximately five Newtons away from soaring off into the stratosphere, her legs jostling around as she clung to her seat for dear life. It seemed your neighbor had a very aggressive way of seesaw-maneuvering. It seemed your cousin had a very aggressive vocabulary.
“Where did she learn—?” The two of you began in unison, then shot your heads back towards each other.
“It had to be you.”
“Outrageous—you’re the Australian here!”
“You cuss like one too!”
“Because of you!”
“So we’re just lying now?”
“Well, yes.”
Felix cracked a smile—and then the two of you were dying of laughter, his right eye squinting closed and your forehead thudding onto his shoulder. You hardly managed to get out your next words. “We have to do something about her vernacular, don’t we?”
“Oh, badly,” he replied. “Badly.”
After you expended your giggles, you nuzzled into the crook of his neck, blissful, glowing. “Thank you, baby.”
“What for?”
“Being my happiness.”
He angled your face back to his and kissed you once more, whispering I love you like it wasn’t enough that it graced your ears; he needed it embossed upon your flesh in permanent ink.
Your intermingled breaths floated up into the air like flare signals over a capsizing boat. Here marks the time we were happiest.
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III. (besides myself)
He’s blonde.
That’s the first thing you notice when you see your ex-boyfriend on your aunt’s porch: the slightly off-white color of his silky tresses, grown out longer than you’ve ever seen, pushed off his forehead and tucked behind his ears.
It’s not the only thing you notice, of course. His face has thinned ever so slightly, the shadows thrown over his features by the streetlights behind him particularly opaque. His outfit is glorious, expensive, with the black blazer and white dress shirt, the top two buttons undone, the pendant of a silver necklace resting between toned collarbones. His hands are almost overflowing with what must be gifts for your family. It’s impossible to discern all of them from this distance, but you know the bouquet of white poinsettias is for your mom, the batch of brownies doused in sprinkles and icing for Byeol.
But the hair is where your gaze returns, because tucked among the platinum strands are black roots: millimeters of the color you grew to adore, peeking out as if trying to catch a glimpse of you, too.
You’re so occupied with this game of “I spy” that you don’t notice the rampant footsteps coming up behind you. Your six-year-old cousin collides with the back of your leg head-on and nearly topples you like a bowling pin.
“Is it him?” She asks breathlessly.
You come this close to berating her as you steady yourself against the wall—what did I say about treating human beings like couch cushions? But you look down to see her chin resting on the side of your thigh, her eager eyes shining so brightly that she puts her own namesake to shame. Your scolding tirade dissolves on your tongue like popping candy.
You simply sigh instead. “Yes, but—”
“BOKKIE!” She shrieks, and Felix’s head snap upwards at the sound of her voice. His tender smile melts some of the frost laminating your heart.
You crack open the door, making eye contact with Felix for the first time in six months.
“Put everything down. Quickly,” you whisper, and he obeys right away, alarmed by the urgency in your voice. A wise choice.
The last present has hardly touched down upon the wooden planks when Byeol wriggles through the doorway and charges towards Felix like an angered toro. He swivels at her bright holler of his name, lowers himself to a squat just barely in time to catch her in his embrace. The delighted laugh that leaves his mouth as he staggers backwards sounds like the sun itself; you feel lost in orbit hearing it again.
“Bokkie,” Byeol murmurs, her voice muffled in the dip of his shoulder, by the tightening of her arms around his neck.
“Hi, princess.” He kisses her temple, presses his nose against her hair. “Whoa, you’ve grown strong, haven’t you?”
“She takes taekwondo classes now,” you hum from above, and the shock in his face asks the very question that your poignant smile confirms. Yes, because of you.
Felix pulls away, cocoons her cheeks with cherishing hands. “Is that true?”
She bobs her head. “I want to be like Bokkie.”
And his eyes go impossibly, terribly soft, like he’s gazing at the horizon itself. The sight twists the knife in your gut and yanks on your tangled heartstrings. It’s all because of you.
“And kick some ass!” Byeol adds, knocking you out of your sentimental spiral. You clap a defeated hand to your forehead. Felix falls over himself. So much for fixing her vernacular.
A few minutes later, Byeol is pirouetting towards the kitchen with a couple of Felix’s smaller presents in her arms, all too happy to be of help. You linger behind as Felix takes off his shoes, your cousin’s departure leaving the two of you alone in the dim foyer.
Felix straightens. The two of you come face to face. The air hangs so heavily with unspoken words that you half expect it to start dripping.
“Hi,” he says.
You nearly laugh at the cruelty of it. The man you were certain you’d grow old with greeting you like you’ve been forced to sit next to each other on the first day of school.
“Hi,” you answer. “You look—”
The two of you say this last part in unison; old habits die hard.
“—nice,” you finish.
“—beautiful,” Felix breathes, his eyes flicking off to the side abashedly.
Your throat constricts, pulse quickens. Says you. If he was a painting before, you think he’s a sculpture now, his perfection as tangible as if hand-chiseled by the greatest artists of old. As clear as the sun’s beloved sea. You can’t tell if it’s his stylist’s doing or simply a product of him growing into himself.
“Thank you,” you reply quietly. “And thank you for coming.”
“Thank you for inviting me. I didn’t think you would.”
“I didn’t do it for me.”
No part of you wants to see the subtle wince that crosses his face at your statement, so you turn your gaze to his jewelry-laden hands instead. 
For a split second, you swear you see the same promise ring settled in the same place on his middle finger. You realize what you’re really looking at only after blinking the phosphenes from your eyes: the thin tanline that it left behind. The realization fixes and destroys you all at once.
Then, Byeol starts wailing about Felix’s whereabouts like an actress hired to spare you from this very interaction.
“Her Highness beckons.” The smile you manage feels like drying cement. “Shall we?”
On your way to the kitchen, you notice the cologne emanating from his person smells only of citrus—no lavender. Its absence steadies you, deludes you into believing that it’s a stranger you’ve just let inside.
That illusion lasts for exactly three hours and forty-eight minutes.
It’s clear that the breakup has your family walking on eggshells, but it’s even clearer that their adoration for Felix has never wavered. You’ve never resigned yourself to the restroom so many times in one night, only to stand with your back against the door, unmoving, unfeeling, listening to the low thrum of his voice through the mahogany. Chatting comfortably with your aunt, bursting into laughter with Byeol, reminding you of the time you considered him family too. 
With every glance you toss your reflection, you discover new cracks in your composure. Has he noticed them yet?
After you come out of the restroom for the sixth time, you notice a light spilling from Byeol’s bedroom into the hallway. A low Australian accent graces your ears, followed closely by a tinkling giggle, and your body nudges you towards the sounds before your head can intervene.
You give your cousin’s door a feather-light nudge. It opens a few centimeters more and grants you vision of Byeol tucked into bed, Felix knelt at her side. Both of their faces are illuminated by the flaxen light of the nearby lamp.
Felix brushes her choppy bangs out of her eyes, a teasing smile on his lips. “Can I tell you a secret, princess?”
This wrests from her another fluttering laugh; you swear he’s the only person in the whole world who makes her shy. “Sure!”
“Promise you won’t tell anyone?”
“Promise.”
“Not even Snernard.”
“M’kay.”
“Or Bong.”
“M’kay.”
“Especially not Trash the chicken. I don’t trust him.”
“I know, I know, I won’t!” Byeol huffs, and Felix laughs at her outburst. You also snort into your sleeve, amused (and deeply perplexed) by your cousin’s plushie-naming conventions.
“Thank you,” he hums, and he lowers his voice enough that you don’t catch the next thing he says.
All you perceive is the way that Byeol reacts. She sits up straight in bed, resting her back against her pillow. Her features rearrange themselves slowly, awfully, like the spread of cherry-flavored cough syrup over one’s sore throat, into the furthest thing from her trademark too-big-for-her-face smile.
Your stomach plummets to your fucking ankle.
“Why?” Her voice sounds microscopic.
“Well, do you remember what Bokkie’s dream job is?”
Byeol considers for a moment. “Being a singer?”
“That’s right.” He runs a knuckle over the hill of her cheek, the action achingly familiar, immensely fond. “And I found a place where I can do that, but it’s very, very far away. I won’t be able to come home very often.”
The telltale signs appear as he speaks; the final word sets them into motion. A tear streaks down the side of Byeol’s face. It hardly leaves the corner of her eye before it’s being intercepted by a doting swipe of his thumb.
“No,” she replies.
“You've grown so much.” Another tear falls. He wipes away that one, too. “You’re growing so well.”
“No,” she repeats.
“You’ve stolen the light of every star in the sky already. The whole galaxy will be yours someday, sweetheart. I know it.”
“I don’t want it,” she whispers. “I want my Bokkie.”
His vision starts to blur also. “But you don’t need me anymore.”
“We do.”
You know the precise moment Felix’s heart pauses in his chest because it is when yours does too.
“We?” He repeats, and she nods.
“Your dream job is being a singer.” Now Byeol is the one to reach for Felix, her delicate hand cupping the curve of his cheek. Her fingers are too small to catch his tears, she tries anyways—
“But what is your dream?”
It becomes too much for you.
You turn around. A choked sob escapes from behind the hand you have sealed to your mouth, causing both heads inside Byeol’s room to whirl in your direction. You don’t care that you nearly break both of your ankles beelining up the stairs; you only care to get the fuck out of that hallway.
You topple into your room, close the door behind you, and crumble.
Your quivering hands find purchase around your folded legs; your eyes squeeze shut against your knees. Rivulets of tears cascade over your shuddering lips like ruptured barrels of wine, left in the cellars of your soul to age, to spoil.
You never wanted your grief to see the light of day. Pouring your regret over every sidewalk wouldn’t change the past. Splashing your heartache across every wall like the world’s most fucked-up mural wouldn’t alleviate the pain of losing him. He was the one who left, but you were the one who’d asked him to. Feeling, yearning, mourning. Those always seemed so futile.
But you’re not just crying in this moment, rocking back and forth on your bedroom floor; you’re bleeding, the wounds you never treated igniting all at once as if exposed to vinegar, leaving you writhing and gasping in their wake. How you wish they’d been able to heal sooner. Maybe then seeing Felix tonight wouldn’t have splintered your soul like dropped porcelain.
Your door clicks open. Your breath hitches in your throat with a quiet scratch. The gulp of oxygen you intake tastes of oranges.
Every night before you fall asleep, you still think of the last time you visited the sea. The cool sand chafing against your toes, the coarse winds slapping your hair against your face hard enough to sting. The weather was terrible (you neglected to check the forecast before making the drive), but when you stepped onto the embittered coastline, you took what felt like the first real breath of your young adulthood. The fog melded to your skin as if melting a blindfold away, showing you the world in its entirety.
You return to that beach when Felix pulls you into his chest, and there’s no fog this time. Just the faint smell of lavender and your ocean, guaranteed to return after momentary departure.
Feverishly, Felix presses his lips to your temple, the apple of your cheek, rests his forehead against yours. Brokenly, he utters, “it’s you.”
You can feel his shaking in every part of him: the tickling breath, the fluttering eyelashes, the unsteady hand that reaches into the pocket of his blazer. You graze your fingers over his jaw, an attempt to steady his careening heart, only to lose yours in the fray also when he produces a small red box of unmistakable dimensions.
“God, it’s you. It always has been, always will be. Anything can change except for this.” His voice disintegrates as he speaks. You disintegrate as you listen. “Everything has changed besides myself.”
Felix leans back in to pepper kisses across the expanse of your wet features, then brings himself to one fated knee. He flicks open the lid. You don’t even spare the ring a glance; you don’t doubt its perfection. All you care to look at is the love of your life, deliquesced to adoration and tearwater.
“Thank you for being around, my dream.” His soft smile tends to your scars like ambrosia. “Will you let me do the same?”
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